Sinful Delights
by ellieloves2read
Summary: This was the third times she saw him there, in a Muggle cafe. She was still surprised, still curious. But he had made no attempts to approach her so far, and she definitely would not go out of her way to approach Draco Malfoy. A story of second chances in life and romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 1: The Cafe**

 **AN:**

 **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **This is my first HP fanfic, please be gentle.**

 **English is not my first language, I apologize in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy.**

 **Timeline: True to the HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

It was the end of September. The days were growing colder, the skies were a hue shade darker, and the leaves were a wonderful myriad colour of fire. Add to that the unpredictable sleets of rain, and everything was as it should be in the city of London.

Throngs of people were out and about. Some were dreading their treks in such gloomy climate, some were mindlessly carrying on with their routines, uncaring about the weather. And some — like Hermione Granger — was enjoying the fresh smell of rain, the coolness of the icy wind slapping on her bare face, and the synchronized dulled voices of people walking about, grumpily conversing about the heavy downpour.

The people were definitely Muggles, as evidenced from the way they were dressed in coats or jackets instead of magically water-repellent, cold resistant, and wind-absorbent robes.

Hermione was wearing the usual garments for a Londoners; tanned leather boots with dark jeans tucked inside, a warm-beige rain coat tailored to accentuate her curves — which had fortunately blossomed into womanly curves in the last four years following the end of the wizarding war — a bright maroon-coloured cashmere scarf, and a black nondescript umbrella held tightly to protect her from the rain, with dainty fingers covered in tanned leather gloves the same colour as her boots.

No magic was cast on her person. She found no need for it to fend off a measly rain, even if said rain was a bit heavier than usual.

Muggles' creations were brilliant and inventive enough to protect her from the unpredictable climate. Being a Muggle-born witch, she refused to rely on magic alone for the simple things that she could do on her own. It would not do to restrict herself within the cocoons created by most wizards and witches of the Wizarding world — who felt the need to separate the two worlds with such harsh lines. Fear of the unknown was the cause of the last war. The magical folks simply must broaden their horizon. She was a Muggle-born witch, god dammed it, and she was entitled to cherish her Muggle heritage. Being a witch should not mean her having to leave her roots behind. It should meant that she was a bad-ass for being a creature of two worlds.

That being said, Hermione was in no way deluded. She knew a line was necessary. The Muggles, in general, were not prepared — at least not yet — to know about the wizarding world.

But to coexist peacefully, a new understanding was needed. There can be no repeat of another wizarding war. The causality was far too great, on every side. And she refused to let the nonsense of blood purity and misconstrued knowledge of Muggle be a reason to creating another Dark Lord. One Voldermort was more than enough for a single lifetime, thank you very much.

That had been the main motivation for her work at the Ministry of Magic at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was trying to push on a bill to ensure inter-worlds community, where selected wizards and selected Muggles would be able to work together side by side for a single purpose — the betterment and continuity of both intersecting worlds.

It was a gruesome challenge, physically and mentally. Hence her trip for a bit of sanity outside of Wizarding London, to this particular cafe on the outskirt of Hyde Park, two blocks away from her flat, which of course was in Muggle London — naturally reinforced with a healthy splatter of magic for protection and convenience.

The cafe was called Sinful Delights. Aptly named, according to Hermione, because they provided the best coffee, tea, and treats, in all of London. Or at least somewhere near the vicinity of her flat, from which she could travelled using the Floo Powder from the Ministry and continued on a healthy two-blocks walk, for a bit of alone time in her favourite cafe.

She had became a regular there, evidenced by the warm smiles thrown her way by the baristas slash co-owners behind the oak wood counter, Jason and Jane; brother and sister with raven hair and green vibrant eyes and a love for all things delicious.

Jane waved cheerily at Hermione and then went back to preparing orders with practiced ease. Jason winked at her while receiving an order from a female customer, who was desperately trying to do so without blushing and or giggling.

 _Brilliant! This is gonna take forever,_ Hermione thought miserably, _why do they always have to man the register?_

It was a fact that the owners of Sinful Delights were beautiful people. It was one of the factors why the cafe was so ridiculously famous, besides the delicious sinful treats.

The place itself was warm and comfortable. Homey — some people might say, with just the right amount of modern edge sprinkled here and there. The first floor was airy with big-ceilinged windowpane, shadowed on the front with a canopy used to shelter the more-behaved climate for those who like to sit out front and enjoy the weather, which was of course being deserted that day due to the downpour.

The cafe was filled with the chatter of the occasional tourists — due to its proximity to the park — and the regulars who came to socialize and be merry with their friends.

Hermione queued patiently, humming to herself while wondering whether she should go for the savoury or the sweet pie. The chatter on the first floor was a delightful cacophonous of white noise, but she very much preferred her usual place on the second floor.

"Good morning, Mione!" Jason greeted with his most charming smile. He caught on to that nickname from the first time Hermione had brought her two best friends to the cafe and Jason had heard Ron called her that. He thought it was cute and continued to use the endearing nickname.

"Good morning, Jason," Hermione greeted, "busy day today?"

"Not more than usual," he humbly replied. His eyes were, as usual, looking right at hers. Warm green eyes, much like Harry's, were always kind and filled with the occasional mischief. "What you'll have then, eh?" he inquired, "the usual?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "but I'll have tea, not coffee for today, please. And I'll take whatever pie you recommend. I'm stumped—"

"On savoury or sweet?" Jason interrupted knowingly with a lifted right eyebrow and mischievous sparkling eyes.

Hermione laughed cheerily, missing the way his smile grew larger just from seeing her laughed.

"Yes," she replied between her laughs, "yes, you caught me. Happy?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," he mumbled, replying to her rhetoric question. Hermione, who was busy perusing the varieties of treats, missed what he said and guiltily looked up like a kid about to be reprimanded for not tuning in to the current conversation.

Jason sighed, forced a smile, and decided to just tell her the total. The one girl he was interested at, was the one girl who was oblivious to his advances. Go figure.

Hermione smiled back, blissfully unaware, paid the total, and scooted over to the pick-up counter, waiting in anticipation for Jame to deliver her morsels.

Moments later, after thanking Jane, her Earl Grey tea and warm apple pie in hand, Hermione hastily moved to the stairs. Once she was at the top of the stairs, she could feel all her worries ebbed away.

The second floor was lined with cabinets of books from floor to ceiling, placed brilliantly to provide private spaces with comfortable squishy sofas and round coffee tables. The balcony provided the same outdoor deck like it was on the first floor, which was also deserted that day. And on the backside there was an indoor garden with potted plants strategically hanged or planted.

Her usual place was in the right corner. Hidden by one of the cabinets, were two sofas and one round coffee table. One of the sofas was facing the garden with a cabinet at its back, and the other sofa was facing the opposite site with the wall at its back. The sofa facing the garden was her spot.

Confidently, Hermione walked to her spot, knowing it would be empty. People preferred the first floor than the second floor. When she came here with her friends, she would definitely be on the first floor. But when she came alone, which was two-third of the time, this spot was her preferred choice.

She smiled to some of the regulars when she passed them by. There were roughly fewer than 20 people there. All of them were regulars. All of them stick to their chosen spots. She knew only 7 by names, others by face.

Nearing the corner to her spot, her heartbeat was elevated, which in turn made her really agitated and furious. _Come on! Get a grip, Hermione. Steady breaths, in and out, in and out._

Steadily, she placed her tea and pie on the coffee table, put her bag under it, sat on her spot, subtly took another deep breath, and looked to her left.

Brown eyes met silver grey eyes.

 _Deep breath, exhaled._

Nods were exchanged.

 _Deep breath, exhaled._

The first time she saw him, she had let out a rather embarrassing squeak. Even the raging storm that day had not been loud enough to smother the sound of it. The tray she had been holding at the time was precariously in danger of falling any second. The man she had been so surprised to see, in turn, had tilted his blond head upwards. His hair was blocking his eyes so she had missed to see his expression.

If it had not been for the fact that a piece of cake was falling from the fork he had been holding — while said fork then stayed frozen on the air seconds after — she would never had known that he had been as surprised as she had.

Gracefully, he had lowered his fork, looked her in the eyes, and had given her a subtle nod of recognition. And then just like that, he had simply picked up his fork and continued eating — like it was a natural thing for him to spending his time in a Muggle cafe.

Not one to be outmaneuvered, Hermione had overcame her surprise brilliantly and had rushed over to her usual spot. All the time wondering when the sky would finally fall out, because every thing had been so out of sort, now that the unbelievable had happened. Afterwards, Hermione had been so focused on not looking his way, that she had missed his departure all together.

The second time she saw him, Jane had been waving goodbyes and throwing him one of her utmost bedazzling smile — upon which he had responded with a nod. Another nod was thrown her way and he was out the front door, leaving her with nothing but a faint scent of something in the air as he had passed her by.

Jane had immediately asked Hermione if she knew him, to which she had replied that they were in the same boarding school, but had not been close — understatement of the decade — and proceeded to ask how Jane had come to knowing him.

With twinkling eyes, Jane had regaled Hermione with the first time she saw him in the café — which coincided with the first time Hermione saw him — and how good looking he had been despite being drowned out in the storm and how gentlemanly he had been towards her, and so on, and so on. After so many words describing his positive physical traits compared to other men, Hermione had tuned her out.

That day was the third times she saw him there. She was still surprised, still curious. But he had made no attempts to approach her since then — not counting the three nods which confirmed that he was definitely a nodder — and Hermione definitely would not go out of her way to approach Draco Malfoy.

She turned her attention back to her steaming hot pie and started to dig in.

 **AN:**

 **Ok, be honest, should I continue?**

 **I've never been so nervous with a new ship in a new fanfic before (new for me at least)!**

 **I've already prepared the next chapter, titled The Woman. I'm sure you could guess which POV that would be. But I'm wary on posting it without hearing your thoughts.**

 **There are lots of wonderful fanfics about Dramione already, I'm petrified to even post this T_T**

 **Please be kind and review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 2: The Girl**

 **AN:**

 **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **This is my first HP fanfic, please be gentle. English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing** : **Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy.**

 **Timeline** : **True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

The Malfoys had always been a close-knit family. Not one to expose their inner matters to the public; all indiscretions were dealt discreetly. Only the triumphs were broadcasted — and there were none of those after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy had been raised the way all Malfoys before him were raised; in a closed environment where knowledge and facts were transformed into their own ideal.

 _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper: Purity Will Always Conquer._

The Malfoy family motto was the very first Latin he was taught. All of his beliefs, his ideals, his way of life, were sourced one and the same.

 _The Malfoys are the purest of them all._

 _The Malfoys' words are definite._

 _The Malfoys' decisions are absolute._

 _We are the epicenter upon which the wizarding world revolves._

Imagine being brought up with that kind of beliefs. And then to have the same beliefs shredded away, little by little, once he had finally entered the real world.

It had started off small.

Believing himself as the superior being, surrounded by other children who worshipped him, his view of the world had always been black and white. You were either with him or against him; worthy or unworthy.

The Weasleys; blood traitor, poor and uneducated, were unworthy to be considered friends. But of course, the Boy-Who-Lived, the celebrated hero, would definitely deemed as somewhat respectable enough to be one of his friends.

And then Harry Potter had the nerve to decline his offer of friendship, for a Weasley, no less! That was unheard of. Everyone had wanted to be his friends.

Every where he went, people of all ages had came flocking to him, asking him what they could do for him, how they could be of service to the Malfoy family, groveling for him to send kind words to his father and so on.

Everyone had wanted a little bit of the Malfoys — except Harry Potter. And so started the first crack to his perfect world.

In the years that followed, not only was Harry Potter chosen as the youngest seeker ever before him, Draco was also second best in grades compared to Hermione Granger; dubbed as the brightest witch of her age, Harry Potter's best friend, the bane of Draco's superiority — the turning point that turned him into a vicious young man.

Every time his father — the revered Lucius Malfoy — had ranted about the disgrace of being second to a 'Mudblood', Draco had only her to blame.

Lucius' chosen type of torture for his only son were words; carefully crafted words had been his weapon. And Draco had born the brunt of it since the moment he stepped his feet into Hogwarts.

 _"The youngest seeker ever! I was informed that that Potter had never even heard of Quidditch before. Tell me again, how long have you've been playing Quidditch?"_

 _"Slytherin had won the House Cup for six consecutive years. Six! The year my only heir entered Hogwarts, the House Cup went to the all-around-fool Gryffindor! This is a disgrace to the Malfoy's name..."_

 _"Let me go through this one more time, in case I've misheard you the first time ... You let the Mudblood girl slapped you?!"_

 _"Eleven O.W.L.s! Eleven! A Mudblood! She's not even a Half-blood! It seems to me that disappointing me is the one thing you're good at, boy. Should I even ask how may O.W.L.s you received?"_

On and on, his father had berated him. Draco had found no reasons good enough or reasonable enough to counter Lucius' words. It had been unfathomable that a wizard with lineage such as his, could be beaten by a Half-blood and a Mudblood. The latter being the most degrading.

And so Draco had focused all his anger, his resentment, and his pain, to the one witch he had deemed responsible for his declining position in the eyes of his father.

He had taunted her, had called her horrible names, had jinxed her, had treated her as less than human. But despite all of that, at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, when the three Malfoys were huddled down in the corner, ignored by the joyful victors, unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there — Hermione Granger was the only one to approach them, though cautiously — and asked of their well beings.

Stunned beyond belief, none of them had been fast enough to answer her. Narcissa Malfoy was the first to overcome her surprise. "Thank you for your concern, Miss Granger. But it seems that your injuries were far more concerning than ours." Narcissa gestured to the many cuts on Hermione's bodies.

Hermione looked down and glossed over the blood stains on her clothes. "They will heal," she said, not minding much on her battle-inflicted wounds now that they've won the war. Hermione focused her attention back to Narcissa. "I...um...heard from Harry that you had covered for him, back at the Forbidden Forest. That without your false confirmation, he would not have survived." There was tenderness reflected on her eyes. "My gratitude will never be enough, Mrs. Malfoy. Because of your action, my best friend is alive."

Narcissa was silent, for the first time in her life she was left with no immediate response to the sincere gratitude. Especially since the reason behind her action was a selfish one, she had simply wanted to save her only son. The best she could do was to nodding her head, unable to respond to the girl's sweet smile.

"And uh, Malfoy," Hermione stopped and stuttered, realizing that she was addressing three Malfoys, "I meant, uh, Draco," she hesitated there, for it was the first time she ever regarded him with his given name. "I'm so sorry for your loss. It was never easy to lose a friend."

Draco tilted his head upward, bracing himself to seeing a sneer to accompany her words — and found none. Her brown eyes were warm and sincere, filled with compassion. Crabbe had tried to kill her and her friends with a Fiendfyre — and there she was, expressing her condolence to her enemy.

He responded with a slight nod — that being the only thing he could do at the time.

Still stumped seeing the compassion pouring out of her warm stare, he was unable to hold their eye contact and looked down to the cracked pathway under his shoes.

His mother's hand, which had been holding his from the very moment they sat down, was squeezing his hand in encouragement.

When he looked up again seconds later — with words already forming at the tip of his tongue — she was already walking away from him. Her slightly curly locks were bouncing lightly; her clothes were dirty, torn, and slightly singed, with blood seeping in different spots. But her steps were steady and never faltered. His stare followed her until she was swamped with the bodies of her welcoming friends who were moving further away, until Draco could no longer see her.

Warmed in a way he could not articulate, then and there, the girl had fully shattered his already crumbling beliefs.

 **AN** :

 **I imagined the scene to take place after Harry brought Ron and Hermione to the Headmaster's office to talk to Dumbledore's painting. Along the way there, Harry explained what he had seen on the Pensieve and what had happened in the forest.**

 **The Malfoys were mentioned as follow (I totally took some lines):**

 **"...and he spotted the three Malfoys, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention"**

 **For the sake of this story, Hermione went with Harry, got the full story, circled back with Harry and Ron, and approached the Malfoys (on her own).**

 **You might notice the chapter is not titled "The Woman", as mentioned in chapter 1. I'm saving that title for the next one.**

Acknowledgement:

Thanks to kabg01 (my first reviewer! Thank u, glad u liked it),

ellie1788 (hi there, another ellie from another parents!),

Mcurie (I'm glad u were intrigued),

SecretNinja (I've also read a LOT of Dramione, my glasses is getting thicker and thicker),

Ankita (I concur, he's behaving oddly. Stay tuned),

EightNoteAngel (I desperately hope this chapter still meet your approval).

 **Thank you all for reviewing. Your reviews were the reason I'm such a wreck before posting this, simply because your positive reviews made me wary of whether the next chapter will be good enough for u. I really do not want to disappoint!**

 **I found that positive words really do help.**

 **Love to hear your thoughts. Please do review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 3: The Mother**

 **AN** :

 **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **This is my first HP fanfic, please be gentle.**

 **English is not my first language, I apologize in advanced for any mistakes you might find here**.

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy.**

 **Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

The Malfoys spent the month after the Battle under strict house arrest in the Malfoy Manor. Ordered by the then temporary Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Draco remembered going back to the Manor and had felt that he did not belong there. The place hadn't felt like home for a long time; ever since the Dark Lord resided there, ever since his father himself had invited evil to their doorsteps.

The Aurors who chaperoned them to the Manor had demanded Lucius to explaining in detail the extend of its ancient wards. With Lucius' assistance, they then proceeded to alter the Manor's wards to keep the inhabitants from venturing out without permission from the Ministry. The Malfoys were told that they would be summoned when a trial date was set.

Narcissa and Draco witnessed the altering process and was there to see the Aurors out. Once the doors were closed and she could feel through the wards that they were finally alone, Narcissa Malfoy turned in haste to embrace her son.

"I am glad you're not hurt," she told him in hushed tone. Draco's right hand instantly went up to return her embrace. "Go and have some rest. I will have some food delivered to your chamber momentarily."

Narcissa released her hold on Draco and turned to talk to her husband when the unexpected happened.

"Why did you do it, mother?" the question slipped out of his mouth before it could be stopped. He realized that he could no longer put up with the way it used to be. Draco had been accustomed to never question his parents' decisions; it had been the Malfoys' ways. His parents had set the course of his life because that was the way it was supposed to be. He had abided by their rules. Until the very end, he followed them to the edge of the cliff, because that was what was expected of him.

There were lots of questions never uttered between the three of them. Their answers were assumed — at times, guessed — from the actions they've taken. Lots of words were left unspoken. _No_ _more_... He refused to let things progressed as they were before. Changes must be made. His interaction with Hermione Granger was the turning point for Draco. He no longer had the option of going back to the same hateful boy he used to be. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

His mother stared at him with a sad expression. It was the kind of question that shouldn't be asked because the answer should be obvious enough. Narcissa was debilitated. What kind of a mother had she become when her only son must resort to questioning her action that was obviously done out of her love for him? Oh how she had failed him.

Tenderly, with all the love she could muster, ignoring all the breeding she was taught about showing no emotion, her right hand rose to cup his left cheek. "For you, my son," she answered with finality, her tone brooked no argument "I did what I did, for you."

Draco let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

From the peripheral of his glistening eyes, he saw his father moving closer to where Draco had stood frozen. Lucius held out a hesitant hand to grasp Draco's right shoulder. No words were exchanged between the two Malfoy men; Lucius Malfoy was not yet ready for more, but it didn't matter to Draco. For the first time in a long time, he felt a semblance of peace.

For all his parents' faults — and there were many — they really did love him ... and that was more than enough. They would weather the consequences of their choices together. Come what may, the Malfoys would stand united.

It was the summer Draco turned eighteen that the Malfoys were pardoned by the Ministry of Magic.

His road to redemption starts now.

 **AN** :

 **Too short?**

 **I've planned to write longer chapter. But planning and execution are two very different animals.I felt the need to write chapter like this. Got to give the lovable version of Draco a chance to get out of his shell. And I think it's appropriate for it to start with his family. We'll get to Hermione, I promise. Or better yet, he'll get to Hermione. Ehehehe.**

 **Let me know what you think of this chapter, pretty please?**

 **Keep the muse fed?**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **ankitapaswan (I hope this is still believable. I swear in my head they do! Super excited to read your review),**

 **kabg01 (glad u thought so. Thank you for your continuous support in reviewing)**

 **Alicia (thanks for catching that! I've made some alteration. I'm so embarrassed),**

 **Guest (thanks for reviewing. Glad u liked it).**

 **Thanks for reading, liking, following, and reviewing this story (o''o)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 4: The Father**

 **AN:**

 **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy.**

 **Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

 _How can a man redeem himself?_

The question had been burning inside him for a while, and being the active boy that he was, while he was in deep thought, his long feet would find their ways pacing back and forth on the new transfigured thick rug in his chamber. This could potentially bring forth a scolding from his mother in his immediate future. The rug and most of the items inside his room were newly transfigured. His mother, in one of her bored moods from being cooped up in the Manor, had decided to completely redecorate the place.

The day after they had been pardoned, Narcissa had came to his room and woken him up, demanding him to help her with the arduous process of transforming the entirety of the Manor until a proper renovation option was made available to them. Apparently the process of unfreezing their assets would take longer due to many administration problems.

Since then, he had been hauled from one chamber to another with his mother at the forefront and a reluctant husband following closely behind. Draco had meandered in between.

They had spent most of their days doing transfiguration spells and some physical works for parts that were impervious to magic, which was mostly fell upon Draco to complete. Lucius had blamed his old age and his failing health for not being able to help Draco. What a crock of toad that was. Draco knew his father was as healthy as he can be. But unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy was cunning enough to fake feeling under the weather since day one of the work-your-only-son-and-heir-to-death project.

His mother had only need to raise one elegant eyebrow and Draco had been left with mumbling some chosen curse words under his breath while having no option of bailing out. Not that he really wanted to, if he was being honest. They spent more time together that summer than their whole lives combined.

Another great outcome was his ever-increasing mass of body muscle. He was no longer the malnourished stressed boy he had been on his sixth year. His body had filled out considerably without losing his preferable lean physique. His pale complexion had a healthy look to it, if a pale face can actually have healthy look; it would be Draco's. And with the workout came the fatigue, which he thought might have helped for a night of undisturbed sleep.

Draco had a strong suspicion that his mother collaborated all this effort because of the night they were pardoned. Swayed with the euphoria of the day, he had forgotten to put up the silencing charm around his chamber. And so when the night terrors came, the sound of his screams were heard loud and clear.

The memories materialized slowly. The first thing he saw when he had regained consciousness was his mother frantic face; her eyes wide open, burdened with sadness and concern. The next thing he realized were the hands keeping him down. His father had kept a strong hold of him; the stormy look on his eyes betrayed the calm facade of his face.

No words were exchanged then. His mother had sat down on the side of his king-size bed while holding his hand and his father had transfigured a pen into a chair, set it down beside the bed, and elegantly sat down.

Minutes had passed, allowing Draco to steady his breathing, heart rate, and his sanity.

"All's good now," he had muttered to the room, embarrassed to be seen vulnerable. Besides the kiss felt on his cheek, and the warm grasp on his shoulder, the sound of the closing door seconds later, no other words had been spoken.

He was afraid of another repetition of that night.

The last week had been... Merlin, it had been good. He could not pinpoint exactly what it was that seemed to stop the nightmares. He was just grateful for a night free of terrors. The only thing different for the past week was the renovation, and now that it was finished, he was on edge.

And he was not the only one; his mother had been overly cheerful at dinner, trying to engage him in various unrelated topics, praising him for being such a dear in helping her renovate the Manor, and so on and so on. At the end, when she had finally ran out of topic, she had reluctantly excused him to retiring to his chamber.

And so there he was, pacing, burning a hole on the carpet, trying to put off sleeping all together. Draco was sure he could make it. He would just have to shift his mind to his to-do list, which of course required more pacing on his part, since the one thing he had to do seemed to be so bloody difficult.

 _How can a man redeem himself?_

"Draco?" His father's voice startled him. Reflectively Draco whipped out the wand from his sleeve and was aiming it at the direction of the voice. Spending years living in fear had apparently elevated his response time.

Lucius stood frozen at the threshold of Draco's chamber. His face revealed little of the tumult raging inside. "I did knock," Lucius explained. "Can I have a moment?"

None would address the fact that Draco's wand was still out, gripped so tightly the wood might crack, if only it wasn't magically a little bit durable than a normal wooden wand.

Draco tucked his wand back to its hidden place on his sleeve and gestured for his father to come in. In silent, they both headed to the seating area near one of the big French door leading to the balcony.

Once they were seated, the silence and the awkwardness ensued. This had never happened before. Lucius Malfoy was never lost for words, ever... He was an eloquent orator; his words could fall or raise a person. So Draco was a bit — terrified —seeing his father behaved like he did.

"What do you w-" Draco started.

"I did this!" His father roared, stunning Draco to an abrupt stop.

Vexed by his outburst, Lucius inhaled deeply and started again. "I did this... I have ruined our family. Your mother had tried to reason with me, pleaded for me to take you all out, but I did not listen... Not until it was too late and there was no way out anymore. You almost...died because of my foolishness. I put you through something no child should have experience, and now you're bearing scars I could never heal. No matter what I do, you'll be branded for life; physically and mentally. I have done you wrong, my son. That's something I'll regret for the rest of my life..."

As far as apology went, that was the best Lucius Malfoy could produce, especially because he rarely apologised at all; at least not a sincere one.

Draco patted himself on the back, mentally, for not dropping his jaw. His father had never said anything remotely close to an apology before. And now that he had, Draco was baffled. How does one respond to that? His relationship with his father was not the same as he had with his mother. They never had a heart-to-heart conversation. Draco never even remembered being hugged by his father. A handshake or a pat on the back, yes, but never a full-blown hug. Draco was sure if he hugged his father now, Lucius would have a heart attack — which would be ironic and catastrophic in current situation. But deep down, he really very much wanted to hug his father, for saying things he would never have said in a million years if he didn't truly love his son. And after that brief sort-of apology, Draco felt loved. There was no "I'm sorry, son" or even "I love you, son", but Draco heard and felt it all the same.

Looking at the way his father was fidgeting waiting for his response; Draco decided to throw him a lifeline. "Do you think we can redeemed ourselves, father?"

Discreetly Lucius let out a relieved breath. It appeared that his son did know him well enough. "Your mother and I have discussed this in detail. We have planned to talk it through with you tonight at dinner, but it seemed like your mother... went on another direction."

"What do you have in mind then?"

The two Malfoys men spent the rest of the night discussing various things, which would come into fruition in the years to come.

The Malfoys helped in rebuilding Hogwarts, so that when September came that year, students were welcomed back with a newly improved castle. They also provided scholarship for orphans of the war for the whole duration of their education. When McGonagall offered for Draco to come back and take his N.E.W.T.s, he politely declined. N.E.W.T.s was only important if one was to apply oneself to jobs in the Ministry, which he was sure would not be available for him. Furthermore, he had no good memories of Hogwarts, and he needed no reminder of the horrid hateful weak boy he had been.

The Malfoys donated a huge sum of Galleons to St. Mungo's to provide free care to the war victims and their families. Talks of renaming a wing to The Malfoy's Wing was politely declined by the Malfoys — meaning Narcissa and Draco. There was a photograph published the next day on the Daily Prophet of the Malfoys leaving St. Mungo's. Narcissa Malfoy was stepping down the stairs with her son politely offering his arm while Lucius Malfoy was seen sporting a thunderous expression. No reporters dared to ask him any question.

There was also a huge sum received by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for aiding the hunts of wanted dark wizards. As fate would have it, Draco was reunited with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were there on Auror's training. Determinedly, Draco approached the Dynamic Duo and greeted them amicably. The conversation was tense at best; it was obvious they were still wary of his intention, not that he blamed them. He ended their talk with his gratitude for saving his life in the Room of Requirement and for saving his family from Azkaban. To say that the Dynamic Duo was surprised, was putting it mildly.

On another personal quest were the letters he sent to different individuals: Aberforth Dumbledore, Madam Rosmerta, and Katie Bell. The letters were a prelude, stating his apology while hoping for a chance to apologise in person. Draco had successfully apologised in person to Aberforth. Katie Bell replied her forgiveness through a letter. Madam Rosmerta never replied at all. Draco accepted all outcomes, he deserved far worse.

In the years that followed, the Malfoys were engaged in many ventures, none involved in overthrowing the current Ministry. Most of their businesses were done in the background because the public was still wary of the Malfoy's name. Only the key people were in the know.

Their most prominent business was importing potion ingredients from all over the world, wizarding and Muggle alike. He spent the past 2 years securing connections within both worlds. From a boy who knew nothing about the Muggle world, he grew up to be a somewhat Muggle-adept wizard. Knowledgeable enough to overthrow any suspicion from his Muggle's partners.

On top of that, walking around on Muggle London was far more enjoyable for Draco. No one sneered at him when he was recognized. No one gave him a wide berth. No one feared him... He had a big new world to explore, and that's what he did every time he had the chance.

The moment came after a meeting was concluded in Muggle London. It was in a place called Westminster and Draco decided to go on another one of his adventures.

Thirty minutes in, the weather had turned from bad to worst. The nastiest storm had hit Muggle London and he was caught in the middle of it. Muggles were seeking shelter on the many establishments in the area and Draco was pulled or pushed inside.

The place looked like a pub of some sort. The smell was heavenly and people were sitting on the many seats available. The ambiance was warm, there were lots of puddings, pastries, pies, cakes, and sweets on a brightened glass cases. Being a sweet tooth, Draco felt instantly excited. He was in a cafe! He had always wanted to go to a cafe since one of his Muggle partner mentioned that the heavenly goodies they provided on their meeting had came from a nearby cafe.

"Hi there!"

The call distracted his train of thought. Draco turned his head and saw that the girl behind the counter was waving at him and was signalling for him to come closer. Experience taught him that when you wanted to learn about things in the Muggle world, it was best to just go with the flow. And so he confidently walked to the counter and greeted the girl.

Pleasantries and names were exchanged. The counter girl, Jane, was apparently one of the co-owners of the cafe and was very friendly. She was adamant in helping him choose a drink and sweets of the day. She was also flirting with him, to which Draco responded as politely as possible. His father might be open to change nowadays, but having a Muggle girlfriend could be pushing it a bit too far.

He paid the total of his purchase and waited for the beverage on the next counter. So far so good, not so different with the kind of establishment on the wizarding world, except for the money, which Draco had mastered. It was one of the things he learned before stepping his feet on this world. Learning the currency was of the utmost importance. Money was the universal language, glad to see that applied in the Muggle world also.

His eyes scanned the place and found no empty seat. _Bloody hell._ He should've just apparated home when he had the chance. Now he was soaking wet in a crowded place, no chance of a drying and warming spell, unable to enjoy the morsels he cannot wait to taste. Utter bollocks!

"Here's your tea, Draco." Jane stated. "It looks like we're pretty swamped down here. We do have a second floor though, it's quieter upstairs. The stairs are over there. Come down and find me if you need anything, yes?"

"Thank you, Jane. I'll head up then. Good day to you."

Draco walked the short path to the stairs and descended. Jane was right, it was quieter upstairs, and warmer too. Draco was elated. He picked a spot on the back and settled down for a quiet, sweet-filled afternoon. _Come here, my sweet morsels._

A couple bites in and he was interrupted with a surprised gasp. It was unmistakably feminine. _Aw come on, what now? Can't I have a peaceful free-of-flirting afternoon?_

Annoyed, Draco looked up and saw through the hair covering his eyes, the one girl he had tried very hard not to think about in the past 4 years. The girl he had tormented for years, the very girl who had turned his world upside down.

In four years, she was the only one he didn't try to find, didn't try to apologise to. How could he? How could he explain the cliché that he was? Would she even understand if he finally found the courage to explain it, after what he had put her through?

 _Can a man redeem himself?_

Merlin's beard, he hoped yes.

 **AN:**

 **I'm super conflicted with this chapter. It was supposed to come up yesterday, but I was not happy with it. I'm still not happy with this one. So please tell me what u think. I need some advices.**

 **Acknowledgment:**

 **kabg01 (this is longer than before. But I'm not sure of the quality. What do you think?)**

 **ankitapaswan (I hope this chapter agrees with u. Love to hear your thought)**

 **Carotte (here's a longer chapter. I hope u like it)**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (I usually don't like WIP too. I'm humbled that u do followed up and favorited this story. Thank you sincerely)**

 **monsterbleeds (ehehehe I found it hilarious too. They're just adorable)**

 **Olicity Lover (so glad u read and reviewed my new story! I'm so happy u love this one too. Please tell me what u think of this one).**

 **Thanks all for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! (o''o)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 5: The First Encounter**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
** **This is my first HP fanfic, please be gentle.  
** **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

The apple pie was in one word: sublime. Hermione was savouring the last couple bites of it with gusto, when the unexpected happened.

"Granger."

The voice uttering her surname was familiar, but the intonation of the way it was spoken was unheard of before. It was a testament to Hermione's war-tested responses that she was able to avoid being chocked to death with the sublime apple pie. She could already imagine the front-page headline in the Daily Prophet.

 ** _Death by Dessert_**

 _War heroine, Hermione Jean Granger, was found chocked to death in a Muggle cafe. Eyewitness confirmed that she was enjoying an apple pie when another patron greeted her, causing the celebrated war heroine and best friend of the Chosen One, Mr Harry Potter, to start coughing and then grasping for air, which then led to her death._

Only a little cough and the stiffness of her body were the evidence that she was surprised, shocked, befuddled, you named it, by a greeting of one Draco Malfoy.

"Um... Malfoy?" Hermione cursed herself for turning what was supposed to be a greeting into a question. She defended her brain-dead moment by blaming it on the fact that Draco Malfoy really was calling her name and was standing _very_ close to her person. _His proximity was to blame!_

"May I sit down?" He gestured to the vacant seat next to her.

Hermione, who usually was very quick witted and who was dubbed as the brightest witch of her age, stared at the empty sofa, stared at the person who requested to sit at the aforementioned sofa, stared at the empty sofa again, and back staring at the person whose expression looked like he was already regretting ever greeted her in the first place.

"Um... Okay?"  
 _Oh my god, not again with the question!_

The urge to palm her hands to her face was very strong indeed.

Draco would have smirked at her with the way she was losing her cool in front of him, if only he was not as nervous as he was in that instance. Instead of smirking, he absentmindedly nodded to her permission, moved around to the empty sofa and sat down.

And then, silence...

No one moved an inch. Hermione stayed rooted on her previous position, her right hand still holding the fork, the last bite of the apple pie on the plate was forgotten. Her steady heartbeat was a thing of the past. Though she resented awkward silence and was itching to say something, possibly something stupid given her current track record, she decided to wait it out. He came to her; he should be the one to break the silence.

Draco, on the other hand, seemed to have lost his ability to speak. He didn't know what he was thinking before, coming over to her like that. He cursed himself for having his mind filled with hope and wishful thinking. Seeing her so tense around him made him questioned his action.

"My presence disturbed you," he said so matter-of-factly, "I'll just go then."

He was rising up when a dainty hand was held against his shoulder, halting his movement, surprising him. The owner of the hand retracted the limb in haste, also surprised by its movement.

They were both jolted by the spark elicited by that brief touch.

"No," Hermione finally found her voice. "Stay... I was not disturbed. Merely surprised."

He nodded to that and relaxed a degree.

"Surprised?" He finally asked.

A small smile graced her lips. "Can you blame me for being surprised? This..." she moved her hands to gesture the both of them, "...is not our common behaviour."

"You mean because we're being civil and not throttling each other's throats?" The small smile transferred to Draco's lips.

Their eyes were connected and both chortled inelegantly.

"As I remember it, I was always being civil." Hermione teased.

"No, not always. I could name several incidents in which you were far from being civil." He countered.

"Because of you! You were being a git. Civility was far from what I had in mind back then."

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. "Yes, yes I was."

When he opened his eyes again, two orbs of warm brown eyes were looking intently at him, cautious, confused, wondering.

It's now or never. Draco thought.

"I'm sorry..."

His voice was low when he said it. Not because he was ashamed to be heard uttering those words, far from that. The words conveyed lots of emotion. He was filled with a swirling of emotions he dared not explain, not even to himself.

Hermione was still staring at Draco. She heard the words, said with the same unfamiliar intonation from the familiar voice, but she didn't know whether she imagined hearing the words or not.

"Huh?" was her brilliant response. Given the state of shock she was in, being able to let out a syllable was good enough.

"I have had this conversation with myself hundreds of time before in the past four years. But still I don't quite know how to put it all together. Bear with me."

Mutely, Hermione nodded.

"Maybe you could put the fork down first?" Draco queried. "I can still feel what you did to me with your bare hand. I really don't want to know what you can do with a fork." He couldn't help a smirk from appearing, despite him being a nervous wreck.

"Prat!" She acquiesced however by putting the fork down. She could easily pick it up later to fork him should he annoyed her.

Draco relaxed some more after their banter. It was a start. He inhaled deeply and started again.

"I was raised in a family that had a clear conception of blood purity." He squirmed uncomfortably at that, afraid she would take it the wrong way. But she showed no agitation to his words, only an eagerness for more, so Draco continued. "Taught since I was a kid of a belief that favoured the pure and condemned the rest. I was told that those who are not pure are beneath me, and so it was okay for me to treat them as less than.

You did not deserve my condemnation and my false belief. The way I treated you for all those years was wrong. My belief was wrong. I...was wrong. Merlin, I did many horrible things to you! Cursed you with words I didn't even completely understand!" He shouted in the end, horrified by the memory of his younger self. His eyes flickered to her covered scarred arm. Shame and self-hatred filled him. His eyes were downcast to his clenched hands rested on top of his thighs. He was unable to look at her brown eyes anymore, afraid of the animosity he might find there. He was being a coward again.

"I know I don't have any right to ask for your forgiveness. I won't even ask you to forgive me."

Draco heaved a long breath of air and decided then to be brave and let his eyes found hers. This was not a time to be a coward, not anymore.

"But you need to know, and this is something that I've been wanting to say to you... I am truly sorry, Granger… Please know that I am trying to better myself. I refuse to be the same evil git you remember. And know that it was your act of kindness, that day at the hall of Hogwarts, which was my turning point. You've given me a chance to be the person I am right now. I'm sorry and I thank you...for everything."

From all of his apologies, this was the hardest one for Draco. He meant every apology before this moment. But never before had he hoped to be forgiven like he did now. Hope was such a great and terrible thing. He knew he mustn't hope to be forgiven, he didn't deserve it. But hope cannot be restraint, it has a mind of its own, and Draco was plagued with hope.

"Thank you for giving me a chance to apologise. I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your afternoon." Draco started to stand up. "Good day, Gran-"

The same warm dainty hand shot out again and halted his movement. This time it was aimed at his hand. Shocked, Draco grasped it back, without really knowing he did it.

"I forgive you..."

The soft-spoken words lingered between them. Gradually, Draco felt a veil of heaviness was being lifted away from his being. He looked down, to the young woman who was still holding his hand and who was responsible for the relief and joy swirling inside him, and Draco was startled to see that her eyes were not merely brown. Hermione Granger's eyes were chocolate brown. Draco had always been a sweet tooth.

 **AN:**

 **I'm quite pleased with this chapter! They were such an awkward mess for their first civil conversation.  
How about it, did you guys enjoy their first encounter? Tell me your thoughts.**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (I will try to stay close with the characterization as possible. Draco was sweet and vulnerable here, as I pictured he would. He was still humbled with his mistakes and Hermione's kindness. I hope you still find this chapter acceptable)**

 **LiesbethDM (thanks for reviewing, did Draco do alright here?)**

 **trixiesnow (sometimes I'm afraid if by being too informative might bore some readers. What do you think of this chapter?)**

 **Guest (I wish you would login so I could thank you properly)**

 **Olicity Lover (I've tried to put some emotions and depths too here. Did I do okay?)**

 **Please kindly review again. I hope you're still excited for more.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 6: The Innuendo**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

 **I must remind everyone that this is an M-rated fic. A curse word here and there is a given.**

"Granger."

Hermione looked up from her vegetative state on the sofa. Draco Malfoy was standing on the hallway between their usual spots with a tray filled with a combination of sweets. She remembered back in Hogwarts of mornings when owls were delivering him care packages from his mother. Most of the time it was filled with sweets, if the elated shrills of his cronies were any indication. Seeing the contents of his tray, she wondered how he managed to stay in shape.

 _Oh no, don't go there. Stop thinking about his body! Stop thinking about his body!_

"Hi," she responded shyly, remembering their accidental handholding. Yesterday had been astoundingly unexpected, wonderfully so. She didn't know if she would find him here again. She was glad that she did.

Hermione took her bag from the sofa next to her and set it down on its usual place under the coffee table. A clear invitation for Draco to join her, without her having to say the words and risked being rejected should he wanted to be alone. When it comes to Draco Malfoy, Hermione thought it was best to err on the side of caution.

His face betrayed no flicker of surprise, though his gleaming grey eyes indicated otherwise. He manoeuvred the contents of his tray and sat down on the sofa, he would never admit out loud that the sofa he was currently occupying felt a whole lot better than his usual spot, and so was the current company.

"So..." Hermione began, "what brought you to Sinful Delights? This is a Muggle cafe, you know."

"Ah, straightforward and eager to learn as ever." Draco replied. "It's good to know that you're still the same swot as you did in Hogwarts. Though I'm a bit surprised you forgot to raise your hand like you used to. Tsk tsk tsk... that will not do, Granger. That will not do." Draco took an eclair and took a bite of it. Focusing on it instead of answering her question.

"Prat!" The insult was said with no heat. In reality, Hermione was glad to see him back to his annoying self, an arrogant prat. She didn't know how to deal with Yesterday Draco, as evident with the way she had handled him; fumbling for words, accidental holding of parts of his body... _his fine sculpted body_.

 _Stop it!_

"If you must know, I was in the neighbourhood," he supplied.

"Doing what, exactly?" She inquired. "If you don't mind my asking."

Draco sighed. "I have a feeling even if I do mind, you'll just nag on me the whole time I'm here."

The manic glance of her eyes confirmed it.

Draco sighed again. "I had been walking around after a meeting ended when the storm struck. It was utter chaos and I couldn't find a place secluded enough to apparate, so I sought shelter here. And before you ask, no, I didn't know you'd be here nor did I follow you here. It was as they said, a mere coincidence."

"But after you saw me here, the first time we met, why did you kept coming back?"

Draco's right eyebrow quirked up. "You expected me to bolt after seeing you in here, didn't you?"

"Yes," was her firm reply, she was not going to lie. The old Draco would definitely do that, after throwing her some insults.

"I came back because I wanted to talk to you, that should be obvious. And I came back again today because of this," he raised his half-eaten éclair, "the Muggles really know their sweets and I really want to try every varieties they have. Now let me finish my éclair in peace, woman!"

Her non-reply was answer enough and Draco finished his éclair in sweet-induced peace.

"You were walking around in Muggle London?"

For the third times that day, Draco sighed again. With the rate this was going, he would never finish his treats in time for his other meeting at the Ministry. "Yes, Granger, I was walking around in Muggle London. My meeting was in fact with Muggles." He was getting agitated. "I thought we've put the past to rest yesterday. Must you still judge me with the same indignation?"

"I am not judging you, Malfoy. I really am not." Hermione denied. "I do, however, are getting very seriously curious. I know that curiosity kills the cat and all that, but I just cannot help my-"

"Curiosity kills the cat?" he interrupted. "How?" Cue another arch of his eyebrow.

"Ah, yes. It was a Muggle saying..."

"How?" he insisted again.

"I don't know!" She answered frustratedly. "It was just a silly saying, don't take everything so literally. Now, like I said before..." Hermione stopped mid rant. "Bloody hell! You made me lose my point!"

"Cursing now, are we?" he teased, while picking up a scrumptious-looking bread and butter pudding and ignoring the silently fuming woman.

Hermione exhaled loudly and decided to fight another day. "Is that all you'll have for lunch?"

"I had eaten before coming here. Mmmh… this is divine!"

"A lunch and three piece of desserts. It was a wonder you stayed in shape." As soon as she said it, Hermione could feel the heat on her cheeks and the upper part of her midriff.

"So you _do_ appreciate my figure, don't you Granger?" If Draco's smirk got any bigger, Hermione vowed she would dump his tea on his lap. "You should have told me that you fancy me. I never knew!"

He looked so giddy in seeing a flustered Hermione. There was a twinkle in Draco's grey eyes that turned them to liquid silver. Seeing them, Hermione's involuntary blush was off the chart. He put the finished pudding container and raised his right thumb to his lips and unknowingly let out his tongue to lick any lingering sweet. Hermione felt the instant need to douse herself with water.

Feeling the need for distraction before her uncontrollable mind got the better of her, she asked the first safe question she could find. "What do you do for a living?!" If the question was asked a little breathier and a little loud, Draco said nothing of it.

"The Malfoys have many businesses. But my current focus is on importing potion ingredients from all over the world." he explained. "You?"

"That sounds exciting! I remember that you were quite talented in Potion." she complimented. "As for me, I am working at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"The Ministry. Yes, I've heard or read somewhere that you finally decided to work for the Ministry, though not as an Auror like your best friends." he commented. "I've always imagined that you would be working for the Ministry, terrible swot that you are." Draco added that last tease before raising his cup of tea to his slightly smiling lips.

"You've imagined me a lot?" The question slipped out of Hermione's lips, unfiltered, untested, undoubtedly sinful.

Draco, who was enjoying his tea, was caught unaware and brilliantly spritzed out the warm liquid in a burst of chaotic spray. Drops were scattered on the innocent coffee table between them.

Both of their faces were aghast. Hermione's for letting out the unfiltered question. Draco's for reacting so genuinely barbaric toward her unanticipated question. Her right hand was covering her mouth. His mouth was slightly opened; a drop of tea was slithering down his jaw.

Grey eyes met brown chocolate eyes. For a second there was silence. Cacophonous sound of guffaws soon followed; the kind of laughter that was drawn out, spreading unrestrained joy and endorphins to their systems. There was mirth on their laugh-crinkled eyes.

They knew it then, they were well and truly fucked.

 **AN:**

 **There's going to be a change of venue next (I think). The idea is still forming in my mind. This will be a happy ending, obviously, since I adored happy endings and the world is bleak enough without sad endings. However, I'm still a bit hazy on the chapter counts. I don't like hurried romance. I don't like easy romance too. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy. I'm just gonna go where the muse and your reviews bring me to.**

 **Yes, notice I said "your reviews", because it's true. Reviews bring out the muse. So thank you all for reviewing and following and favourite this little story.**

 **As for this chapter, it's the day after their first encounter. I figured it was time to get back to their usual self.**

 **Acknowledgment:**

 **kabg01 (you're back! Here's the next chapter for you. Love to hear your thoughts)  
**

 **fallenhero57 (aww thank you. Your review brought a smile to my face. Here's the next one)  
**

 **Nelly983 (I liked the previous chapter too. I'm super glad u liked it too)  
**

 **Olicity Lover (as usual, your review humbled me)  
**

 **trixiesnow (don't worry, they're both in trouble now)  
**

 **irelove (I'm quite terrified in writing, you know. Especially since I have to post it for people to read. So thank you for your kind review)  
**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (I'm sorry u disliked the last chapter. Emo Draco, as you put it, had to be done. He would occasionally reappear again though. It simply cannot be helped)  
**

 **Guests (thanks for reviewing. There are two of you now. Please login so I could thank you properly)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 7: The Undecided**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy.**

 **Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

There were four categories of men in Hermione Granger's life.

The first category was her group of friends from her time in Hogwarts. They grew up together, studied together, played together, fought in the war together. That kind of bond binds people for most of their lives, some longer and tighter than most. Case in point was her best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The former was newly engaged with his long-time girlfriend and Hermione's friend, Ginny Weasley. The latter was her first puppy love, with whom she had a passionate adrenaline-pumped kiss, which unfortunately was almost non-existent in the days after. They had tried, they really did. But the passion, if it was ever there in the first place, was not as powerful as the love they had for each other. And so they decided to remain as best friends, because that worked for them best.

The second category of men was what she dubbed as the groupies, wizards who were attracted with her status as a war heroine and came flocking to her like moth to a flame. There was an abundant of them within the first couple years after the war. At first, she was flattered to have so many wizards showing interest at her, asking her questions after questions and listened intently on her answers. She had a room full of wizards hanging on every word that came out of her mouth. She even went out on dates with some of them. That was before she noticed the hero-worship glaze on their eyes and the repeated topics of the war and her involvements in said war on their vocabulary. She tried to avoid this category as best as she could.

The third category was her peers at the Ministry, with whom she had a professional relationship and daily fondness of partnership and camaraderie. Some had tried to ask her out, some she said yes to, but then one bitter outcome made her decide not to shit where she ate. It was better for her peace of mind not to be annoyed with jilted dater during a meeting just because she would not put out at the end of their date.

The fourth category was a small pool of Muggle men, consisted of her friends before Hogwarts and the friends or acquaintances she met during her trips outside of wizarding world. It was not impossible to find love here, but she was afraid of the consequences of exposing her witchy self and was rejected because of it, because of who she was at the core of her existence. Being different was not something that was celebrated by the Muggles. At times, being different invited ridicule or even death. She had faced enough of those in the wizarding world. W _as it really worth it to face it again in the Muggle world?_ The answer for now was definitely _No_.

Amongst those four categories, Hermione was having difficulties in determining the best one for Draco Malfoy. He was definitely not her friend back in Hogwarts; strike Category One. He was not a groupie, that's for sure; strike Category Two. He was not an employee of the Ministry, wealthy enough not to even work should he chose to; strike Category Three. He was undoubtedly not a Muggle, to even consider it was idiotic; strike Category Four.

It seemed that even in her mind, without his knowledge or even active participation, Draco Malfoy was an annoying prat, demanding his own category, in which he was the only occupant. _What an annoying elitist prat_. She would call him _Undecided_ , albeit not to his face.

"Hermione!"

"Mione!"

Hermione was jolted back to reality with the shouts of her name from her two best friends, with whom she was having lunch with at one of the cafeterias in the Ministry. They had been talking in length about last week Quidditch game, which in turn made Hermione temporarily deaf and thus made her think of the _Undecided_. Their faults, obviously.

"Yes?" The words were politely drawn out, icily so, reprimanding them for being the first one to tune her out by talking about Quidditch on the limited time they had for lunch together. It worked like a charm, a technique she had perfected after knowing them for more than a decade. They looked bashful and sent her their most silly smiles. _Boys will always be boys_. She smiled back at them.

"It's still hard for us, you know," Harry said. Hermione looked at him in question, not understanding his direction. "It's still hard for us to accept the fact," Harry continued, "that after all these years, you're still not loving Quidditch!" A huge smile adorned his face.

"Honestly Mione," Ron added with a grin, "your best friends are fanatics. We had hoped that constant interaction would at least made you a little appreciative of the game."

The two were smacked lovingly for that. The three best friends exchanged huge laughs, ignoring the stares they garnered from the other occupants of the cafeteria, some in awed of seeing the complete sets of the war heroes together, some who knew them from work simply stared because they were being loud and silly, none were resentful. They were, after all, the saviours of the wizarding world.

A little see-through rabbit, a Patronus, was sent to Harry and ended their lunch. He was reminded of a Portkey departure in the next ten minutes. The message was succinct and less informative, but both Harry and Ron stood up immediately while giving her their most apologetic expressions.

Accustomed with their haste departures, Aurors were needed in the most inopportune times; Hermione already stood up and were giving them one of her signature bone-crushing hugs, one by one.

"I will see you both this weekend. I'll bring some puddings," she confirmed.

"From that Muggle place?" was Ron's excited reply.

"Yes, Ron. It was called a cafe. Please do remember it the next time we're there not to call it the Muggle place. It was hard enough to explain your fascination towards their cash register machine to Jason that one time."

"Sorry, Mione." Ron replied automatically, not really listening, which they all knew all to well.

"This weekend." Harry reconfirmed. "I'll let Ginny know you'll be bringing some desserts. We really do have to go now. Love you."

"Love you. Please be safe!" She gave them another rushed hug, this time together. It was hard knowing that your best friends were going somewhere possibly dangerous. The time might be peaceful, but the efforts to keep it that way were policed mostly by the Aurors.

They patted her back and went hurriedly to the Auror Office. Hermione watched them until they made a turn and was no longer visible before gathering her belongings and went back to her office.

She was making a turn, completely unaware of her surrounding, when something solid was hitting her face on and she was pushed without any hope of righting her footings before her back was slammed to the floor.

Strong warm hands grabbed her arms before her body even had the chance to lean backward. The force threw her forward to the owner of the hands. Her soft curves were met with hard solid frame of the man whose proximity brought out a tingle to Hermione's skin. Without seeing his face, Hermione knew he was her _Undecided_. Not to mention the faint familiar scent she got from being stuffed unto his chest...his very defined chest.

A beat passed before Draco gained back his bearing and pushed her gently into her personal space, which was out of his personal space, bringing along with it the scent of her hair, which had been previously situated under his nose, taunting him to do something...inappropriate.

"You really must look where you're going, Granger." Draco drawled. He let go of his hold on her arms, a bit reluctant in doing so, not that he'd admit it.

Flustered, frustrated with the way her body was behaving, Hermione snapped at the man who caused it all. "Me? You're the menace here! Why don't YOU watch where you're going, Malfoy! What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in a meeting? Where are you heading anyway? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Whoa Granger, how you could say all of that with one breath is beyond me." He replied jovially, seeing her becoming more and more flustered. "Now, where do I begin?" He stopped for added effect.

"The menace here is of course you, my dear Granger. I was watching where I was going; you're the one who had your eyes glued to the floor. I'm here because of my meeting. The meeting was concluded minutes ago. I am heading to the Apparation spot. As for why I was looking at you like _that_ , I'm sure I don't know what you meant. Maybe you could elaborate?"

His face was decidedly smug. Hermione wanted to smack his grin away, with her hand or...other part.

But before she could do anything, a middle-age wizard appeared beside her. "Is there a problem here?" His tone was harsh and Hermione felt like a child about to be reprimanded for causing a scene and for yelling in the middle of the day. She was about to apologise when she noticed that the wizard was looking intensely at Draco, not at her.

Draco, who knew all too well the reason behind the meddling man's action, and who was acquainted with the treatment towards his family, answered in a polite non-emotional tone. "There is no problem here, sir. The lady and I were having a conversation. I am on my way out now. Thank you for your concern. Good day." He stepped to move around the man who was blocking his path, when a voice was heard.

"Wait." Hermione said to Draco. Her voice brooked no argument. She turned her head to acknowledge the meddling fool and started. "I apologise for yelling and making a scene. I'm so sorry to disturb you with my action."

"Oh no, Miss Granger, it was not your fault." the man stuttered.

"Oh but it was. My fault, and no one else's." she interrupted. Her voice, though polite, had become colder. "I would hate to put blame unto someone who did not deserve it." Here she stared intently into the man's suddenly shamed eyes. "It was not Draco's fault. I wasn't looking where I was going and if it wasn't for him, I would've fallen to the floor. So I'm afraid I must insist, it was my fault. Thank you for your concern. Good day." she finished with the same sentences as Draco's, on purpose, just to prove a point.

"Come, Draco," she continued while dragging Draco's arm with her hand, leaving the obnoxious man rooted on the spot, "I'll accompany you to the Apparation spot."

Her hand kept holding on his arm along the way. Her tiny strides were hastened. She was furious. Draco made no attempt to retract his arm, no matter how many eyes were bulging out from seeing her dragging him by the arm. He was more afraid of the little ball buster on his side.

When they finally reached their destination, which was deserted because of the time, Hermione let go of his arm and tried to steady her breathing. She was still furious with the double standard she had just witnessed. It would have been her blamed in that situation if the other side won the war. That kind of injustice should not still exist now! Being in the winning side does not mean people have the right to treat others with the same discrimination they endured.

A hand grasping hers caught her by surprise. She looked up to the eyes of the owner of said hand.

"Draco?" He questioned her previous use of his given name.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "We're friends. It was time."

Another moment passed before Draco nodded and let go of her hand. He walked to one of the spot and turned back to face her. His eyes betrayed nothing, but the relaxed posture of his body was telling.

"Hermione." He greeted her goodbye and then Apparated, leaving Hermione behind with a sudden elevated heartbeat from hearing him said, for the first time, her given name.

 _I'm in trouble._

 **AN:**

 **I don't know with you guys, but for now, I adore his nods and his name-greetings for hellos and goodbyes.  
** **He was figuring her out first. I think he was taking his cue from her. I'm saying this because in my mind he was still evolving. They both are.**

 **Let's see where this story takes us, eh?**

 **Thank you, you wonderful people!** **Would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **kabg01 (I'm not making them fall into bed that fast, no worry. There's gonna be a lot of flirting first)  
**

 **Nelly983 (I think they're cute too. u know it!)  
**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (so glad u thought so. Believe it or not, I need to write a fic like this too. Wash my stress away)  
**

 **Ana (hi, Ana! Thanks for writing your name. Now I could thank u properly)  
**

 **ElizabethDM (I had lots of help from a thesaurus! Ehehehe. I also love her last non-filter question. I thought about that question first and wrote the whole chapter just to get to that part)  
** **monsterbleeds (exactly! Seeing him do that when she was hating him is totally different compared to when the hate is no longer there)  
**

 **Olicity Lover (I'm glad the fic help with your lousy day. Your review also made my day, u know? Glad u loved it)  
**

 **Nanda Magnail (so glad u enjoyed the chapter. Thanks for your first review. Super excited to see new name)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 8: The Weekend**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

 _Friends.  
_ She had said they were friends. Draco liked the sound of that.

A good friend was hard to come by these days. Some of his childhood friends, who were still caught up with their ancient beliefs, were no longer his friends. They had nothing in common anymore. Their bond had been their beliefs and animosities towards those with tainted blood. Since Draco no longer believed in such nonsense, they found themselves drifted away; Goyle and Pansy included.

Another part of his childhood friends, with family member who died in the war or who were persecuted in Azkaban, had stayed far away from the Malfoys, who they considered as blood traitors or simply traitors to their cause.

What remained was two of his somewhat friends, Theodore and Blaise. The three of them had maintained their interactions by owls on birthdays, Christmases, and New Years. They were never an avid supporters of You-Know-Who and had steer clear of Draco after he was branded. Draco knew they had wanted no part in the war, despite their occasional ribbings towards their classmates. But the war found them all and they were unable to avoid being dumped in the middle of it.

Another letter by a different owl had come on Friday night, the night after his impromptu meeting with Hermione. She had owled to let him know that she had a family gathering to attend to on Saturday, which usually continued with a sleepover. She hoped that he would have a blast weekend and that she would see him on Monday. She signed the letter with a "Your friend, Hermione."

The letter, which content was of no huge importance, and was usually thrown away once the message was received, was now kept safely on the study in his chamber.

Saturday had come and went. By Sunday, Draco's mood had worsened considerably.

It was on their usual Sunday family lunch, when Draco had stabbed another innocent potato that Lucius decided to comment on his son's foul disposition.

"Son," he called. Narcissa's eyes found his. _Are you sure?_ was conveyed on her stares. Draco kept on stabbing at the potatoes, missing his father's call and the voiceless conversation being exchanged.

"Son," Lucius called again. Draco raised his eyes slowly. The familiar orbs had lost their usual light. Something was going on, of that Lucius had no doubt. "Is something bothering you?"

Draco looked confused at first, then understanding dawned on his eyes, and then his son looked mighty pissed. "No," Draco said forcefully, "nothing is bothering me. Everything is fine." He went back to stabbing his potatoes, with more force this time.

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged another look, a confused one this time. Their son had grown up to be a mature young man in the last years, so was Lucius and Narcissa who had outgrown their former selves, which explained the improvement on their relationship as a family. Their meal times were filled with lively conversations about many topics. So it was disheartening to see him shut down and behaving like he was now.

"How's the importing business?" Lucius tried again.

The stabbing stopped. "It's running smoothly, father. I have secured a new channel with the Muggle. It was a lab in Westminster, they will process some of the raw ingredients we imported from Egypt."

"Have they signed the contract?"

"Yes they have. The spell will ensure the secrecy of the wizarding world. They will be none the wiser of the magical ingredients they were processing and they will be well compensated as negotiated."

"Great work, Draco." Lucius complimented and meant every word.

"Thank you, Father." Draco let out a little proud smile. His conflict was momentarily forgotten.

They all returned to their meal. Minutes passed and Draco was back to the stabbings.

"Will you leave the potatoes alone and tell me what's troubling you!" Lucius demanded.

Draco, who was actually unaware of his unconscious action, looked down to his plate, saw the massacre, and be reminded of his previous enlightened moment for the reason behind his foul mood, which in turn made it even fouler. The scowl reappeared on Draco's face.

For a strategist, her husband can be very tactless. Narcissa wiped her mouth elegantly and put the napkin down on her plate, signaling she was finished with her meal. The dirty plate disappeared and was soon replaced with the dessert plate. "What your father meant, in his own caring way, was that we are worried about you, Draco," she interjected before the situation worsens. "But you are an adult now, and we will respect your wish for privacy." She stared directly at her husband then, who nodded perceptively.

"You will tell us if it's something serious, won't you?" she continued. Her eyes on Draco's.

"Yes, mother. You have nothing to worry about." Draco answered. "I am sorry to have ruined this lovely lunch. I think I'm going to lie down a bit." He rise up and made to leave the table.

"Won't you stay for dessert?" she asked again, perplexed this time. He never passed on dessert.

Draco looked at the plate of dessert and sighed. "I'm quite full now. Maybe later."

As he walked away from the table, Narcissa looked at his barely half-eaten plate and wondered. He had been coming home with a smile on his face and a really jovial mood for the past week. She had been itching to ask him about it this weekend, but seeing his scowling expression, which was getting worse since Saturday, she now had no doubt that it involved a woman.

"It's about time." Lucius commented calmly.

For all his faults, her husband was as good at reading a situation as she was. The only question was, _who's the woman?_

 **AN:  
** **Short chapter. Sorry about that. I'm like Draco, I know why my Muse was not inspired, but refused to admit it.  
Any guesses on why Draco's was sulking on the first place and why he was pissed after the reason became known to him?**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **ElizabethDM (I loved reading your review. It was my intentions to bring out all of that for the reader. I'm sorry for the lack of their interactions in this chapter)  
**

 **fallenhero57 (I would not dare to do that! Harry, Ron, and Hermione forever! As long as the last two not linked romantically, I'm all good)  
**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (I'm also looking forward to the flirting. And I hate myself for not writing fast enough to get there soon)  
**

 **Olicity Lover (you asked for Draco's, I give u Draco's, even though it's short and not my best chapter)**

 **Won't you review?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 9: This?**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

"Draco." Hermione's inner self jumped in glee of having greeted him first, with his given name, no less.

The man she greeted tilted his head up, and upon seeing her standing there with her tray, he rise up and took the tray from her hands. "Hermione." Draco greeted her back before settling her tray on the coffee table and sat back down.

Amused with his gentlemanly behaviour, Hermione sat down with a little smile.

"How was your weekend?" she asked after taking a sip of her tea.

A grumbled "fine" was all she got.

Undeterred, she asked again, "Fine? Well, aren't you're going to ask how my weekend was?"

"How was your weekend, Hermione?" Draco asked obligingly, fake politeness seeping from every spoken word.

Hermione knew enough when one was having one of their dark moods. Apparently, Draco was in one of his.

"It was wonderful," Hermione answered, trying not to let his dark mood affected her, "I went to Harry's. There was a celebration, Ginny was accepted into the Holyhead Harpies!"

That caught his attention. _Typical!_

"A professional Quidditch player?" Draco mused. "Good for Weasley. I never thought she would pursue it professionally. She was quite good back then."

"Wow, a compliment from Draco Malfoy. Never knew I'd live to see the day. I should tell Ginny you said that, then I won't be the only one shocked!"

The glint in her eyes told him that she was joking, taunting him to get out of his mood. But his own question escaped him before he could hold it in. "Would you?"

Hermione quirked her head a little, confused with his question. "Would I what?"

Draco swallowed the bile forming in his throat. "Would you tell her about this? About me? …Us?" The last was said in lower tone.

They stared into each other eyes, an action common enough for both of them now. Draco liked looking into her eyes, because her words were mirrored on her eyes, the windows to her soul. Hermione liked looking into his eyes, because it still amazed her that the way he was looking at her was filled with... tenderness, something she'd never imagined would be triggered by her presence before.

"Yes, I would," she answered in finality. "It was something I would like to discuss with you first though."

Draco nodded for her to continue.

"I would like to tell Harry and Ron about you," she started. "I can barely keep it in the whole weekend! Harry was asking about my week and I almost blurted out that I made friends with Draco Malfoy!"

"Why didn't you?" he asked. Insecurity came up to the surface, a feeling he was unaccustomed with.

"It was Ginny's day, Hermione said. "It wouldn't be right to take the spotlight away from her. Especially since I didn't know how the boys would react."

"Do you think it would be bad?"

"I really don't know. You're not the only one changed after all these years, you know. They've matured a bit."

"I'd reckon it would be easier for you to talk to Potter first then, huh?" Draco added, "Weasley might be a bit trickier."

"Yes, I thought so too. But with them being away so often with their Auror assignments, it was hard to meet with just either one of them since they're partners."

"Your relationship with Weasley seems okay despite all that," he said offhandedly.

Hermione looked at him hard. Draco, on the other hand, was looking intently at his half-eaten cream-cheese-icing carrot cake.

"Draco Malfoy, are you fishing on whether or not I'm in a romantic relationship with Ron?" She didn't know why, but the tactless way in which he formed his question brought a smile to her face.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I was just commenting on what you said. It must be hard to maintain a relationship when you don't meet the person often enough." His eyes never faltered from the staring contest with the carrot cake.

"Our relationship is wonderful, if you must know," she said. Draco felt a pit forming on the inside of his stomach; his hand gripped the fork with more force than necessary. "We managed to talk frequently," she continued, "If not, how else would I know that he fancies someone in the Auror Office?"

At that, Draco lifted his head and saw the small knowing smile. She answered his question while making fun of him in the process. Brightest witch of her age indeed.

"That was generous of you," he said, "not many women will be fine with their men fancying another."

A gasp was heard. Draco almost let out a chuckle when he heard it.

"Prat!" she shouted. And Draco could feel his mood lightening up.

"You befriended this _prat_ , who's the fool here?" He asked with a smirk. Her only reply was to give him the stink eyes.

Draco chuckled at seeing her stink eyes, he responded with a wink, and went back to savour his treat of the day.

Hermione hid a satisfied smile. She did it! He was no longer moody.

"Now…will you tell me about your weekend?" That proved to be the wrong thing to say, if the scowl on his face was any indication. But she was determined to find the bottom of it. They were friends now. Friends share burdens.

"You know you could talk to me if something's bothering you, right?" Hermione continued. "Are your parents alright? Oh my goodness! I was too busy thinking about my conversation with Harry and Ron; I completely forgot you must have problems with that too! What did they say? Was it dreadful? It must be, right? That's why you're so pissed. Oh no, I'm-"

"Hermione!" Draco interrupted her rants before she suffocated from non-stop ranting.

"I haven't talk to my parents, there were other...things on my mind," he explained. "But I will talk to them soon. And don't worry; I know they will not object to us being friends. Mine wasn't the only life you touched with your act of kindness four years ago."

If they could, Hermione's eyes would bulge bigger than they already were at the moment. She hoped to high heaven she was not blushing, even though the sudden heat on her cheeks indicated otherwise.

"Um...right," she said shyly, "I just don't want to cause problem for you. Either with your parents or your significant other."

"Are _you_ fishing, Granger?" Draco teased.

"Hermione," she corrected.

"Are _you_ fishing, _Hermione_?" he asked again.

"I don't consider it fishing, per se. It was customary for friends to ask personal question like that. You did it!" She added with a flick of her hair while preceded to take a bite of the tartlet.

"Well, I don't have any significant other. I doubt anyone would want to sully their names with the likes of me." The words were said innocently enough, but Hermione could feel the undercurrent to a more serious discussion.

"What happened at the Ministry… does it happen a lot? Was that what kept your mind occupied this weekend?"

Draco stayed silent. When he picked up his tea and took a sip, Hermione thought he might not answer at all.

"You're not gonna let this go, huh?" asked Draco.

She shook her head.

"It didn't happen as often as you might think," he started explaining, "We don't go out much nowadays, only to selected venues. Since I ventured out to the Muggle world, it happened even less. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to. I should be grateful that the only thing they threw at me was only words. I know my actions deserved far more than that."

Hermione stayed silent, knowing he wasn't finished.

"I knew then that what I did was wrong, but they all thought I did it because I wanted to. None of it was voluntary... It was either I did as I was told or he would make sure my parents were punished for my insubordination. He would never punish me first; he would make me watch as he torture my parents, knowing that their pain was caused by my unwillingness to comply. None of it was voluntary!" He almost shouted the last part.

Hermione's hand shot out to grasp his. "I'm sorry, Draco."

Draco knew she endured far worse, he had seen the torture. He knew his reason did not make up for the fact that what he did was wrong. But hearing her said those words, confirming her care for him, warmed him beyond belief. He tightened his hold on her hand.

"But it wasn't that that was bothering me," he said while still holding her hand. "I was having my typical weekend, when I realized that I missed..."

Hermione felt her heart stopped beating.

"-this..." he finished weakly.

"This?"

"Yes, this!" he confirmed, as if that clarify everything. Hermione felt the sudden urge to smack him on the head, but he was holding her right hand, her dominant hand. If she smacked him with her left hand, the effect won't be the same. Plus he was on her right side, too far away for her smack to make a dent.

"And when I realized that I missed...this, I was pissed! I don't like the feeling of missing something, especially when it was something I could never..." And then he gazed at her and stopped talking, obviously finished with his explanation, like he was already saying too much.

He let go of her hand and went back to his cake, refusing to look her way, leaving Hermione wondering what "this" meant because it could refer to many things. And that last unfinished sentence!

Even with unclear meaning and unfinished sentences, Draco Malfoy managed to make her heart beating like the hooves of stampeding Centaurs.

 _How dare he!  
_ _Prat!_

 **AN:  
** **I am overwhelmed with the response to the last chapter. Glad u guys liked it. This chapter was supposed to be up on Sunday night, but there was some technical problems. Your supports made the muse well fed.**

 **I hoped this chapter clear something up. Draco missed her, missed their times together, and he was unconsciously sulking because of that. When Lucius questioned him, he realized his bad mood was caused by him missing her and that pissed him off. Because in his mind, she was unattainable.**

 **Olicity Lover, you were right!  
** **Strayedwolf94, I added an element of your guess here about Ron (because your review made me realize I need to sort our the relationship question). But the family gathering was actually at Harry's.**

 **Thanks for reviewing and for playing along with the guesses. I love it!**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **kabg01 (Draco explained shortly about them here. But I figure we will have a conversation about them sometime in the future, for you. Draco with his** **parents and Hermione with Harry and Ron)**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (yup, sulking Draco is super cute. I'm glad we have resolved your confusion via pm. Thanks for rereading it again)  
**

 **Nelly983 (I can't wait to get them together too!)  
**

 **SecretNinja (I'm glad u loved it. How do u think of this one?)  
**

 **iwasbotwp (Hi, thanks for reviewing. I hope this chapter answered your guess about why he was pissed)  
**

 **minniemousemom (ehehe thank you)  
**

 **BBG336 (yes, I'm gonna drag it out so that it doesn't feel rushed or anything)  
**

 **windyshoes (exactly my point! I personally liked the part when he realized he was mutilating the potatoes. Yup, I also like that part!)**

 **Thank u all for the continuing support to this fic. I won't be able to make it this far without your reviews and support in the numbers of follows and favorites.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 10: The Invitation**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
English is not my first language. I apologise in advance for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

When they parted ways that afternoon, Hermione had left the cafe with an added stomp to her stride, leaving Draco quite bewildered, unaware that he was the main cause, or rather - his tendency to make Hermione flustered into outrage.

Let it be known that men are quite dense that way.

She had looked like she wanted to ask him something, but refrained from doing so, with reasons unknown to him. The only thing Draco did notice was the dangerous glint on her eyes - which enhanced her chocolaty eyes - and the hint of a blush on her cheeks when their eyes met while saying goodbyes. Draco thought that she had never looked that delectable-

 _Wait, what?!  
_ That last thought kept him rooted on the spot, at the front of the cafe, while the young woman who caused it was stomping away to her flat to floo back to the Ministry; her brown hair swished left and right in furious swings.

A patron of the cafe bumped into him and shocked him back to reality. A quick "sorry, mate!" was thrown his way, which was left unanswered because he was still in a daze, Draco started walking to his usual deserted alley a couple buildings over to Apparate. He had no more meetings that day and would just rather go home and think; think about stuff that made no sense to him in theory but felt so undeniably right it made perfect sense despite it all.

After casting a quick Muffliato around his vicinity and making sure he was alone in the alley, Draco Apparated home with a loud _PoP!_

With the ancient warding up, the Malfoy Manor allowed only those with the Malfoy blood and those keyed in into the ward to Apparate directly unto the Manor's porch. The huge ornate front doors would open inward to allow those who had been granted access to enter. People who were unrecognized by the warding will find themselves on the outer side of the wrought-iron gates when they tried to Apparate directly into the Manor. Some alterations had been done during their house-arrest period and another alterations after they were pardoned. Nowadays, to ensure their safety and for their peace of mind, only the three remaining Malfoys and the house elves had access to the Manor.

Once Draco stepped inside the foyer, Binky - his house elf - greeted him warmly. Binky had served the Malfoy family since before Draco was born and Draco never treated him badly, despite what people might think. Since he was a little scrawny toddler, before the pureblood doctrine, Draco loved to run wild inside and outside of the manor. Whenever he fell down, whether on the plush carpet inside the Manor or on the stoned pathway in the garden, Binky would always be there to help him up, calm him down when he was about to cry, and heal his scraped knees and arms.

Binky loved Draco, and though he might never admit to it out loud, Draco loved him back.

"Welcome home, Master Draco," Binky greeted with a courteous bow of his big wrinkly head. With eyes that were too big for his head, the warmth inside those orbs seeped through the formality of his behaviour every time Draco was around. Today though, those huge green eyes shined in confusion; Draco seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, not replying Binky's greeting, not smiling in the slightest. Binky was quite sure Draco didn't even notice him, he kept mumbling under his breaths. It sounded like a repetition of noes; No No No. Draco kept on walking to the direction of his chamber on the second floor without giving Binky his long overcoat, which he still wore on his trek upstairs.

Binky was distress! He _Pop!_ right away to Lucius's study. The person he was looking for was sitting comfortably in the plush sofa near the fireplace with a book in his hand. "Yes?" Lucius asked without looking up from his reading, knowing that only the house elves were able to Apparate inside the Manor.

"Master Lucius," Binky yelled, "come, quick! Something's wrong with Master Draco!"

Knowing Binky and his penchant for rarely showing his distress - which was a rarity for house elves - Lucius quickly touched the clearly distraught elf for a Side-Along Apparition; He was getting worried himself.

Binky Apparated Lucius directly into Draco's chamber. Side-Along Apparation was never enjoyable, especially with house elves. The rattle inside his head was giving him a massive headache, but it looked like his son was having a much horrible headache from the way he was hunched over in the seat, his hands grasping his head.

"Son, are you alright? What happened?" Lucius asked worriedly, his hand rested on Draco's shoulder.

Surprised, Draco's head shot out like a spring. His eyes were troubled; his hair's rumpled from being unconsciously pulled this way and that. Lucius thought his son looked...undone. Something must've gone horribly wrong.

"Binky, fetch my wife. Hurry!" Lucius commanded. One of the lessons he learned from the past was that everything would be better if sorted together, as a family. And his lovely wife had always had better sense than he was.

There was a loud _PoP!_ and the startled confused "What?" from Draco.

Seconds later, another _Pop!_ sounded and the unmistakable worried voice of Narcissa Malfoy. "Draco, what happened? Are you all right?

Another confused "What?" brilliantly uttered by the same person. Draco looked even more confused than he was before.

"Son, tell us what happened. You looked unwell and troubled. You know you could talk to us, of anything." Lucius said.

"Your father is right." Narcissa added. "There is no need to shoulder whatever burden you're carrying alone. Remember our promises? Together."

"I..." Draco started, looking between the two people and one sentient being in his chamber. "Why are you're all here?"

"Binky informed me that there was something wrong with you and when I got here, you were clearly...distraught." Lucius answered.

Draco looked at Binky. The elf was hovering beside his mother. He looked worried, if not more so than his parents. Draco thought back to when he entered the Manor and realized that he did not remember seeing Binky there, which was unusual because whenever he was back home, Binky would always be there to greet him. And then Draco realized that he must've been so lost in his own thoughts and thus alerting Binky that something was wrong, which encouraged him to call on his father.

 _Bollocks!_

Draco took some steadying breaths. He had meant to talk to his parents about his burgeoning friendship with Hermione at dinner. But now that he realized that it might not be friendship he was starting to feel towards her, he was conflicted.

 _No!  
_ He was still figuring things out himself, it could still be friendship but because it had been so long for him, he mistook the feeling of friendship with something else.

 _Yes, that was it!  
_ He just needed to twist the truth a little to explain his current state.

Draco sat back straight and put his hands through his hair, correcting the rumpled state somewhat. He looked warmly to the elf. "Binky, thank you for your concern. But I am truly all right. There's just something I need to talk with my parents. Could you please leave us?"

Binky stared at him and seeing the warmth in his silver eyes, he bowed and Disapparated. Pop!

 _One down, two to go._

Draco gestured to the other seats on the seating area for his parents to sit down. Once they sat down, Draco took another steadying breath. He could feel two sets of expectant eyes on him.

"I met someone," he finally said.

A startled cry of joy was heard from his mother.

 _Okay, poor choice of words there_. Draco sighed.

"A friend," he clarified. "A friend from Hogwarts. Though she was not a friend when we were in Hogwarts."

 _She?  
_ Lucius and Narcissa looked at one another and exchanged their voiceless conversation, unbeknownst by Draco.

"We met a week ago, coincidence. I've said I'm sorry and she forgave me, even when she shouldn't. And we've been meeting every day since…except last weekend."

 _Ah, so she's why he was so moody.  
_ Another voiceless conversation. Every thing started to become clearer to his parents.

"Do you, fancy her?" asked his mother, thinking that must be why he was telling them about her now.

"What? No!" Draco yelled, flabbergasted. "Yes!" he stuttered.

His parents gave each other another look.

"No!" he yelled again, followed by, "I don't know..."

 _Bollocks!  
_ Things did not go the way he planned it to be. Draco can't help but running his fingers through his hair again, making it go awry and curlier, especially since he had been keeping them longer than usual.

"In the beginning," Narcissa started, "it is...understandable to feel conflicted." Her hand reached out to her husband. "I was conflicted when your father first showed interest in m-"

"Not what I wanted to hear, Mother. Please..." Draco grimaced.

"Ah yes, my mistake... What I meant to say was that things will sort themselves out eventually. I'm just beyond ecstatic you've found a friend, or more..." Narcissa stopped, wondering whether she should continue. Strengthening her resolve, she said, "I know how lonely you've been these past years and it breaks my heart..."

Draco went rigid. He had no idea his parents knew how lonesome he had become. He thought he had covered it well enough. He avoided his parents' eyes, unable to deal with their guilt or worse, their pity. It was just hard to have real relationship, friendship of otherwise, while being the pariah of the wizarding world.

"I'm fine," he finally answered.

"Don't say that." Narcissa countered.

Draco thought about Hermione's chocolate eyes and the sensation of losing himself in them. "I truly am fine, Mother."

Narcissa stared at the eyes so similar with her husband's and saw that her son was telling the truth. She knew what to do. "Invite your friend to lunch with us this weekend. We would very much like to meet her."

"It's Hermione Granger!" Draco blurted out, looking intently to his parents' reactions, which he didn't get because his mother was a force of nature.

"Saturday. Lunch. Invite her." Narcissa Malfoy decreed.

 _Oh, bollocks!_

 **AN:  
** **There goes Draco with the three Bollocks! Ehehehe. He was super conflicted.  
** **I hope this chapter does not disappoint. It was important for me to write that his parents were more focused on his happiness now.  
** **It took a rather different route than I imagined, a little humour, a little angst, but I'm quite happy with the way it turned up, I think.  
** **What do u think?**

 **Acknowledgment:**

 **ElizabethDM (I always love reading your review, u pointed to things I might not realized specifically, and I loved it! Hermione is just lovely like that. You know I'm still waiting for that other review, right?)**

 **** **SecretNinja (by my count, in two chapters, we'll get to their growing interactions)  
**

 **dixie236 (I hope you're not too disappointed with my explanation of why Draco was pissed)  
**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (we'll get to the flirting in two chapters. I hope)  
**

 **BBG336 (the first reactions is from Draco's side. We'll see how Harry and Ron deals with it next)  
**

 **Olicity Lover (I only have some glimpses on the flirting. I'm super nervous to even imagine writing them! I don't think I could handle the tension. I'm afraid I'll ruin it. Glad u loved the chapter)  
** **Another guest (hi, it's okay. It happened to me a lot too. I'm humbled by your review)**

 **Thank you, all! I really do have the best readers. Won't you please review?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 11: The Best Friends**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
** **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

It was raining heavily outside when Hermione stepped out of the fireplace. With two flicks of her wand, the soot clinging on her coat was removed and all the lights in her flat were turned on. She was too tired to do it the normal way; her day at the Ministry had been long and tiresome.

She was walking to the direction of her room, dreaming of a long warm bath, when the fireplace roared, and the head of her best friend appeared.

"Hi," Harry Potter greeted. "Long day?" He asked after seeing her pale complexion. His eyes crinkled with worry. Hermione was horrible in taking care of herself, which was ironic since she was more than capable in taking care of others.

"Hi, Harry." She sent him a small tired smile. "I went to your office to find you and Ron today, but they told me you guys were on another hush hush mission. Back so soon? Is everything all right?"

"All's well. No need to worry yourself with us. We're the big bad Aurors now." Harry answered teasingly.

"I don't think I would ever stop worrying," she countered honestly. "Want to drop in?"

"I would, actually. If only to make sure you're not about to faint any minute now."

Hermione's smile grew bigger. "Come on over then." Hermione opened her coat and set it down on the headrest of the sofa near the fireplace, which had grew bigger in size to allow Harry access. She had spelled the fireplace to shrink back to its usual size when not being used for the Floo Network. A huge fireplace scared her, period.

When Harry appeared, signalled by the marvellous green fire, Hermione had sat down on the same sofa, waiting for Harry to join her.

"I'll make us some tea," Harry said, not waiting for Hermione's response. He walked to the kitchen, knowing the layout well, and came back minutes later with two cups of hot tea and found that Hermione had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Harry sighed. That was to be expected, she had looked dreadfully knackered but still he insisted to come over. He had a valid reason though. During the weekend's gathering, Hermione had given him a look he knew too well; she had something she wanted to discuss with him, him and Ron. But until the end of the weekend, still she said nothing.

He was familiar with the way Hermione's mind worked. He had a feeling it was something important and possibly controversial, given her reluctance to discuss it during the company of others; she was afraid of his and Ron's reactions. And that made Harry even more curious. So when he was told by a fellow Auror that Hermione had came to the Auror Office looking for him and Ron, Harry decided to look for her, conveniently leaving Ron in the dark. Perhaps Hermione would feel better discussing whatever it was with him first.

Not that it mattered now. The woman in questioned was out of commission, her head leaned on the armrest, and her body was tucked in an awkward position.

Harry put the cups down on the table and started the process of correcting her posture. When he was sure she would be at the most comfortable sleeping position, Harry reached out for the warm blanket under the table and covered her with it. That was when he heard it. She was mumbling something. It sounded a lot like "Prat".

Another thing about Hermione he was familiar with, she mumbled in her sleep when she was knackered. During the many months they spent together in the tent, exhausted beyond belief, Harry had became accustomed with the words and sometimes sentences she'd mumbled in her sleep. He was, however, unprepared to hear the name she called out next.

"Draco."

Harry froze.  
 _It can't be._

The name was spoken with the tone he knew was her chastising tone.  
 _Maybe she's having a nightmare?_

But she always called Malfoy with his family name, never with his given name. Harry felt lightheaded, was he dreaming? Maybe he was the one having a nightmare. He sat down on the carpeted floor beside the sofa and pinched his arm for good measure. It hurt.  
 _Oh no, I'm not dreaming!_

"Draco."

There was no mistaking it this time. The tone had changed; it was spoken tenderly, almost like a caress.

Harry did the only thing he could think of, he pinched another arm this time, Hermione's.

"Ow!" Hermione screamed. The pinch was indeed quite hard. Harry was unsuccessful in pinching himself awake; he thought maybe it would work if he pinched the object of his nightmare, in this case Hermione.

"What..." Hermione sputtered, "what the-?"

"Draco?" Harry cut her off with a simple word.

This time it was Hermione's turn to freeze. "Um... Er... Um... Huh?"

"You were talking in your sleep," Harry explained, "and you called out his name...twice!"

"Oh..." Now that cleared it up, she hated the talking in her sleep thing. "Wait, did you pinch me?" Hermione asked.

A tint of red decorated Harry's cheeks. "I have to make sure I'm not dreaming."

"You're supposed to pinch your own arm!"

"I did that the first time!" Harry argued, "And you still called out his name! So I pinched you instead..."

Hermione grumbled while rubbing her arm up and down.

"I'm sorry I pinched you, I panicked." Harry supplied. "But, blimey Hermione, can you blame me? You bloody called out his name, twice!"

"Yes, Harry, you said that already." Hermione palmed her face, feeling the tell tale of a blush.

"Now... Do you mind telling me what the bloody hell is going on?" Harry sat down next to Hermione, tilting his head with its famous messy hair at her.

Hermione sighed. "I met him, accidentally, last week in ... don't freak out!" Hermione warned, "...Sinful Delights. You know, the cafe I frequented. I brought you and Ron there twice."

Harry squeaked in surprise, but was stopped with a raised finger, signalling him not to interrupt.

"He approached me and apologised. And we've been amicable and friendly since then. He's a...friend," Hermione explained, "My friend." That last part was meant as a warning.

Harry was silent, eerily so. Hermione's hands unconsciously twisting and pulling on the blanket, she was nervous. Harry knew he would have to mind his words, especially since she had adamantly stressed out that Draco Malfoy was her friend. He knew how fiercely Hermione defended her friend and he was grateful to be in that category.

"I never told you this," Harry finally said, "but back when I was still an Auror trainee. The Malfoys, Lucius and Draco that is, came to the Auror Office. Ron and I were heading out when he approached us."

He stopped talking to take the blanket out from her torturing hands, afraid it would tear and he would somehow get blamed for it. He held one of her hands in his. She looked nervous, so Harry squeezed her hand for support. He preferred a non-neurotic Hermione, thank you very much.

"What happened?!" Hermione half yelled, agitated that he made her wait for the explanation.

"He thanked us for saving his life in the Room of Requirement and thanked me for testifying on his family's behalf. He ended it with an apology." Harry answered.

"He did?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, to the surprise of us both! Ron was speechless, though he managed a grunt." Harry smiled remembering the disbelief and have-I-gone-mental look in Ron's face. "I was a bit better, I could still form a sentence or two." Harry chuckled, which in turn made Hermione smiled. She knew the feeling well. An apologising Draco Malfoy had that effect on people.

"So, you're okay with this?" Hermione asked, "My being friends with him."

Harry smiled. "I trust your judgment. Amongst us all, you're the most rational one, when you're not emotional that is."

Hermione slapped his arm playfully. The two best friends exchanged smiles.

"If you deemed him worthy enough to be your friend, who am I to say otherwise?"

"The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived," Hermione supplied.

"I'd be The Boy Who Died a Long Time Ago if it weren't for u."

"Well, you did save me from a Troll."

"And I'd do it again if I have to."

Hermione hugged him fiercely, at which Harry let out an "Oof". Hermione's hug was known to do that.

"You're honestly okay with this?" Hermione asked again after letting him go to catch his breath.

"I am," Harry answered, his mind trailing back to the past. "He had looked different then. Still an arrogant arse - don't think that would ever change - but he sounded sincere with his apology, that's why I accepted it...That's why I accepted this."

Hermione hummed her acknowledgment.  
"What do you reckon Ron would do?" she finally asked.

"He'd go barmy, that's for sure," said Harry. "But you know how Ron is now. Malfoy was not the only one who changed after the war."

"Malfoy?" asked the head appearing from the fireplace.

Harry and Hermione froze. There really was power in saying someone's name, over and over again, because the head appearing on the fireplace was the head of Ron Weasley, the third piece of their triad. And he looked furious.

Hermione sighed. It was going to be a long night indeed. She took a sip from the cup of tea Harry had brewed earlier and waited for the inevitable. She really had no other option. She remembered the look on Draco's face when she had said that they were friends. It was decided then; Draco was here to stay, and that's final.

 **AN:  
** **This was meant to come out last week, I'm sorry for the delay because I was not satisfied with the ending and kept changing it. I settled for this one, I preferred to end it with Harry and just a glimpse of Ron.**

 **Would love to hear your thoughts. I'm planning their interaction next.**

 **I've made some revisions for my grammar mistakes on the last chapter. Thanks to ElizabethDM for pointing them out. As a non native speaker, it was hard to point out the mistakes on my own. A constructive critic is always appreciated. Plus we've reached an agreement that Bollocks is the kind of word that Draco might say because of his exposure to Muggles.**

 **Thank you all, you've been wonderful to this story.**

 **Acknowledgment:**

 **BBG336 (it's actually lunch, not dinner. I've checked, because I was also a bit forgetful. Yup Draco is slow, but you still adore him, right? Ehehehe)**

 **Olicity Lover (you're right, he was in denial. Yup I do love the wonderful changes in their dynamic. I hope it doesn't feel rushed. This Draco deserves a bit of happiness, I'm sorry for the angst there, it was meant to be there)**

 **kabg01 and SecretNinja (believe me when I say I have no idea what I'm going to write for that lunch! I need inspiration, desperately. But I'm also hopeful for that chapter. Writing is awesome because I'm anticipating to read something I've not yet wrote)**

 **cpetrienm (and in this chapter we have Harry and a little bit of Ron. I preferred it that way. Yup, I've made lots of mistake, some I've revised, some I've no idea where the fault is. I'm glad u enjoyed it)**

 **iwasbotwp (thanks for pointing that out! I also love their nonverbal conversations)**

 **windyshoes (I concur. He was adorable when he's frantic like that)**

 **JoinTheDarkSideOfMagic (I'm humbled by your review! Super glad to know you're hooked. Thanks for reviewing. Always happy to get a new reader)**

 **ElizabethDM (Yup, that was my plan; let's hope it's gonna be an awesome awkwardness.**

 **ndy (giddy, I like that word. It describes what I'm feeling too when writing this story. Thanks for reviewing)**

 **Guest (I'm glad u loved the chapter. He's half way there!)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 12: The Wayward Curl**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
** **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

"Should I sit down or be gone?" Draco asked cautiously. "You have that wrong-me-and-I'll-curse-you face."

"I do not!" Hermione vehemently denied. The cup of coffee she was holding was put down none too gently on the coffee table.

Draco lifted an eyebrow. He was still standing on the pathway, holding the tray with both hands, looking down on Hermione with the still lifted eyebrow. The mischief in his eyes was prominent.

"Prat! Sit down!" Hermione palmed her face and rubbed the forehead gently, she had a headache for the better part of the morning thanks to Ron and his demand for her to explaining over and over again how she could have befriended Draco Malfoy. She had explained, step-by-step, from their first encounter to the moment they became friends. Hermione had, of course, conveniently left some details out from her story.

Just before midnight, after Ron had asked for the second time "Are you mental?", Hermione had had enough. She roared that Draco Malfoy was her friend and then she challenged Ron to ask if she was mental one more time and see what would happen.

The more matured Ron Weasley - though not miraculously matured by much - had learned to read a situation better than before. For example, he had sensed that Hermione was at the edge of her patience, he knew that once Hermione decided that someone was her friend; she would stand by that decision, no matter what. Point in hand, he was still her friend, when others might have left him for some of the hurtful things he said or did. He also knew that even though he was an Auror, Hermione's love of book made sure that she was more knowledgeable in terms of variety of spells and curses in her arsenal. And when she was angry, the intricate spells - or curses, Ron did not know for certain - she performed, usually was quite vindictive in nature.

The more matured Ron Weasley had decided to do the mature thing that night. Hermione was a big girl and he trusted her judgment. If the words were similar to the ones said by Harry over and over again during their conversation, Ron would say that that was just a coincidence. He was not a coward for backing down from the fiercely looking Hermione; he was being a good friend for understanding. That decision, certainly, was not motivated in anyway from Harry who was almost running to the fireplace while shouting that Ron was on his own.

That was the reason for Hermione's mood; lack of a goodnight sleep. She knew she shouldn't let Draco took the brunt of it, but she just couldn't help it.

"Whoa, I just got here. I don't think I could do anything prat-like in the ten seconds I'm here," Draco said while sitting down and doing his routine of organizing his tray and its contents. A small hidden smirk appeared on his mouth.

"You're a prat just by being you," said Hermione.

"Hey, I resent that!" Draco objected.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, her mouth smiling, feeling slightly better without really knowing why.

"So, who got your knickers in a twist?" Draco asked. This was the kind of question that he usually asked out of courtesy or curiosity, but now he found himself asking out of concern for the woman beside him. That rarely happened. Most of the time, his interest was usually provoked by selfish reason. How in the world, that in such a short time, he had begun to care for her? Draco was perplexed, but was given no time to ponder because Hermione had started grunting. And Merlin's beard, Draco thought she was cute.

"Urrgghh!" Hermione grunted. "Ron!" She spat the name out as an explanation.

"Ah, I take it you've talked to Weasley about us? And if I have to guess, he didn't take it kindly?" The sentences were spoken nonchalantly, but on the inside, Draco was wary. What if she decided to renege on her offer of friendship? Maybe she thought he was not worth the effort, not worth to be fought over with her best friends.  
 _Would she do that? She wouldn't be here if she did._

But then again, she really did have nothing to gain by befriending him. If all else, she might be frowned upon by the wizarding world if she was seen being with him, the Death Eater. In Draco's mind, the one benefited most by this burgeoning friendship was himself. Her friends was abundant in number, she didn't need him. Her best friends despised him; it would be better for her to stay away from him. It was selfish of him to think otherwise, and Draco had vowed to be a better man. But damn it, he really wanted to be selfish for this!

"What happened?" Draco asked after steeling his resolve.

"After our conversation yesterday, I went straight to the Auror Office to talk to them. But they were not there and so I left," Hermione started. "Later that night, Harry came over. He knew I was looking for him. While he was making us tea, I fell asleep and he, um..., er... he heard..."

Draco inclined his head to look at Hermione and was shocked to see that her face was flushed, beautifully so. The tint of rose on her cheeks was highlighted. Her eyes were looking at anywhere but him. What in the name of Merlin happened last night to cause her so flustered like this? She was blushing!

"He heard...what?" Draco asked impatiently. "What did he hear, Hermione?"

"Er... Never mind what he heard!" Hermione insisted. The blush was prominent. "Anyways, we got to talking and I told him about you and I, that we're friends, I meant. He was shocked at first, but then he told me that you had apologised to him and Ron, and so he accepted us being friends."

"Just like that? No _hurt-her-and-I'll-hunt-you-down_ speech? No _tell-him-I'll-curse-him-if-he's-out-of-line_ either?"

"Tsk, please... We all knew I could kick your arse if I want to." The smile on her face was devious. Not for the first time Draco wondered how she was a Gryffindor.

"Yeah yeah, we all know you're a beast."

"Hey, I resent that!" Hermione replied, throwing back his previous words, accompanied by a playful slap on his arm.

"Hey, that was my line!" Draco returned the banter, feeling slightly giddy from her touch. A small smile appeared on his pale face, which was a rare occurrence for those who knew him well. Hermione noticed his smile and felt the pressure in her stomach; butterflies, lots of them.

"And Weasley?" Draco asked again, taking a bite of his sticky toffee pudding, oblivious that his friend was stunned to silence.

Draco turned his head when she didn't respond. "Hermione?"

"Uh, yes? Right then, um... what were we talking about?" Hermione stuttered.

"Weasley," Draco said, "you were going to tell me what happened with Weasley last night." His eyebrow was lifted again, this time wondering what made her lose her train of thoughts.

"Oh yes, right." Hermione answered lamely.

"Are you all right? You look a bit peaked." The red tint was persistent on Hermione's face. Draco was worried she might've been sick and was too stubborn to say so. She did look tired, as was evidenced by the faint shadow under her eyes. He held off the urge to palm her forehead.

"I'm just a bit tired, that's all. Harry and Ron stayed just before midnight. And Ron was an arse! But we sorted it out last night. All's well." Hermione explained succinctly.

Draco nodded, accepting her words. He stared at her for quite some time after that, while she mindlessly kept on stirring her coffee. There was something different about her; she was hiding something from him. Hermione had said that she had been sleeping when Potter heard her say something. That could only mean that she was sleep talking. But what could it be? Draco had a hopeful feeling that it was about him. But he was digressing.

Back to the matter at hand, something was different with Hermione; she stirred her coffee repeatedly, she kept looking down, avoiding his eyes. Draco was befuddled.

"I told my parents about us," he said at last, hoping that would make her look at him.

"Oh, you did?" Obviously it worked; curiosity was natural to Hermione Granger. She looked at him from between the curls falling over her eyes. "And?"

"As I predicted, they accepted it well enough. So well in fact, that my mother had asked me to extend an invitation for you to come over to the Manor this Saturday for lunch." There, he said it.

Hermione froze. He had predicted that too. "I know the Manor would have been the last place you would like to revisit, especially given the kind of welcome you've experienced the first time you were there. But I promise you Hermione, from here on out, your visit to the Manor would not be accompanied with torture of any kind. Unless if you consider dining with my parents as torture."

Hermione was silent.

"I'd be there too, you know. I would not leave you alone," Draco explained. "Being friends with me, a visit to the Manor was unavoidable," he added in lower voice, his guilt resurfaced.

Still, she was silent.

"If you want, I could arrange for us to have lunch in another venue. I'm sure my parents would appreciate it over the monotony of their exile. Maybe we could-"

"Torture..." Hermione started.

"Hermione, I shouldn't have aske..."

"It would be torture to have lunch with you," Hermione continued, "I agree wholeheartedly."

Draco felt the tension left his body. He let out a relieved breath. "I'll have you know that none of your friends would compare to my elite upbringing in dining etiquette."

"You mean the kind of elite upbringing that left a cream on the side of your mouth?"

Draco's hand shot out to both sides of his mouth, looking for the cream she referred to. Seeing that, Hermione laughed out loud, making Draco realized that he was being hustled. Hermione's laugh was intensified once she saw that Draco was fuming; she was hiccupping in a fit of giggles. The riot that was her hair was swinging all over the place; her hair swallowed her face. She was a mess.  
 _A beautiful mess,_ Draco thought.

A minute or more passed before the giggle attack was finally done. Hermione took several long breaths and was working on taming her hair.

"Are you done?" Draco asked.

"Quite." Hermione answered happily, her eyes were eyeing his pudding. "How's the toffee?"

"Heavenly. Try some," he moved the plate closer to her.

Hermione picked up her fork and inched closer to take a bite. Her left hand was holding the plate while the right one started its ascent to her mouth. When the pudding was safely on her mouth, one persistent curl fell from its position behind her ear. Draco, who had been watching her movement, saw that she was closing her eyes, undoubtedly savouring the pudding, and was unaware of the wayward curl.

Casually, as if he had done it a hundred times before, Draco lifted his right hand and tucked it behind her ear. After that, every thing happened too fast for Hermione to comprehend. She felt his thumb caressed the faint shadow under her left eye. But when she opened her eyes, he had already retracted his hand. The only thing remained on her face were his grey eyes; a swirling silver of mashed up emotions.

"How was it?" Draco asked, his voice lower than usual. Hermione didn't know to what he was referring to, the toffee or his unexpected - possibly imaginary - touch.

"Wonderful." Hermione murmured. His eyes remained on her.

"You do look tired, Hermione. Go home earlier today and get some sleep."

Hermione nodded. All the signs were there; the pressure on her stomach, the elevated heartbeat, the warmness of her face, and the suddenly clammy hands.

Merlin's beard, she had undoubtedly fallen ill!

 **AN:  
** **Please forgive Hermione for being so awfully slow in this chapter. She was in an unconscious denial. Draco, on the other hand, had started to accept the attraction he felt for her.**

 **Was the pace too fast?**

 **Plus, do you need me to write down the day of the chapter?  
** **For example: this chapter happened on a Tuesday. The previous three chapters happened on a Monday. Or would it be too confusing?**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **kabg01 (yes I've read Ron each way too. And the one I hated the most was when Hermione let him stomped all over her. Not this Hermione! I do hope you approve)**

 **ElizabethDM (I'm trying to write a more matured Ron, though not by a lot, so that it doesn't feel forced. I didn't want another full chapter for a similar conversation like the one Hermione had with Harry, so I put Ron in a back flash. Hope it's okay)**

 **CharmQuest (Don't worry, this Hermione would never do that! Thanks for reviewing, hope you like the update)**

 **iwasbotwp (your review blown me away. Truly, I'm not just saying it. Thank you! Thank you!)**

 **BBG336 (ehehe, I could understand you wanting a faster pace. But let's start with lunch first, which would be in 4 more days, that's counting in story days, not real-life days)**

 **Melanie (hi, glad u loved it)**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (super glad you loved Binky and the Malfoys' reactions. Thanks for reviewing; I was starting to wonder if u were still reading my update. Ron's part was in a back flash, hope that's okay. What do you mean with fiesta language? Are you referring to my mother tongue?)**

 **Olicity Lover (yup, u guessed right. I hope you like the way Hermione handled Ron, even it it's in a back flash. Hope you'll like the Dramione in this chap)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 13: The Scarf**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
** **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

Hermione Granger was rarely caught off guard. Years of being one of Harry Potter's best friends meant that her response time was better than most people, what with the hordes of enemy gunning for her friend's life and hers. Furthermore, she grew up in the middle of the second wizarding war, for Merlin's sake. Her response time was second to none!

Therefore, she was stupendously stumped by the way she reacted to one Draco Malfoy.

After she had came to the conclusion that she might had fallen ill, Hermione hurriedly finished her coffee - it was simply too delicious not to.

Draco, with the elegance of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth, started finishing his treats in a couple of big elegant bites. Hermione thought that maybe he had another meeting to go to after this.

They stood up at almost the same time and proceeded to gear up with their winter clothes.

"There's a deserted alley a couple buildings over where you could Apparate from." Draco mentioned. "I know you love your leisure walks back to your flat. But considering you're current condition, maybe it would be better for you to Apparate home instead of walking. I'm going to Apparate from there too."

"Oh, I guess you're right," Hermione responded. "The weather had indeed been mostly unfavourable today." She was nodding in acquiescence and was about to walk to the hallway when Draco stopped her movement with a hand on her elbow.

"Where's your scarf?" he asked. For good measures, Draco was eyeing the sofa she had previously occupied and the underside of the coffee table.

"Argh! It's still in my office. I hurried here and forgot to bring it with me," Hermione said, "but no matter, it's a short trip." She waved her hand, deeming the matter unimportant. But still, the hold of his hand on her elbow was unchanged.

When she finally looked at him in confusion, he let go of her elbow and started to untie the scarf around his neck. It was a long black scarf with silver accent, a half reminder of his house in Hogwarts. Hermione got even more confused.

"Here," Draco said. He extended the scarf he was holding to Hermione.

"Wha-?"

Draco sighed. "You're unwell, Hermione. What kind of friend would I be to let you go outside without a scarf? I'm giving neither Potter nor Weasley any reason to curse my beautiful arse." He extended the scarf closer.

Hermione just stared at him. Internally, she was racking her brain for some witty sentences to say about his - quote unquote - _beautiful arse_. She was obviously ignoring the warmth she felt from hearing his words.

Knowing that he had lost her attention, if the faraway look in her face was any indication, Draco sighed again, this time accompanied with a shook of his head. _That_ caught Hermione's attention, because another great change was Draco's no-longer-slicked hair. It was slightly wavy and longer than his usual cut. Hermione admitted - to herself - of liking the way he looked.

Her train of thoughts was disturbed by the feeling of something soft and warm on her neck, along with the concentrated whiff of his scent. Apparently, Draco had encircled his scarf on Hermione's neck and was on the process of making another circle when Hermione came to her senses and put a stop to his hand.

"You'll get cold," Hermione argued, "I'm just going home, Draco."

"I insist," Draco said firmly. He continued making another circle with the scarf. "I'm a man, Hermione. We don't get cold."

Hermione could say a lot of things to that last sentence, lots of smart-aleck response; her wit knew no bound! But she only focused on the part where he said he was a man. And Hermione realized that her new friend was indeed a man, and she was a woman, and they were standing way too close for Hermione's sanity, and the scent lingered on his scarf made Hermione wanted to take a long deep breath.

Afraid that she would blurt out some of those inappropriate thoughts, she decided to just nod her head and stayed silent.

Feeling satisfied, Draco gestured for Hermione to walk in front of him. The hallway between the cabinets was quite narrow for them to walk side by side. They walked downstairs in silence, both in deep thoughts. Draco was thinking that he liked seeing his scarf on Hermione's neck. Hermione was thinking that she was truly unwell because the previous symptoms were back; the pressure on her stomach, the elevated heartbeat, the warmness of her face, and the suddenly clammy hands.

"Mione!" Jason shouted cheerfully when they arrived on the first floor of the cafe. Hermione waved her hand and gave him a small smile. Seeing the look on Hermione's face, Jason rounded the counter and swiftly walked to her.

"Are you alright? You looked unwell."

Jason's right hand was raised. It was obvious by his posture that he wanted to check her temperature. But before his hand even reached above his waist, Draco had swooped in and took Jason's hand and shook it in greeting.

"Hello, Jason," greeted Draco. "I'm taking Hermione home. She's feeling a bit under the weather. See you tomorrow." He then took Hermione's arm and guided - or slowly dragged - her out.

He gave Hermione no chance of speaking, so she yelled out her goodbyes to Jason, who was looking intently at Draco's back with a calculating look on his face, and to Jane, who was sighing from behind the counter, wishing it was her who got to be taken home by Draco Malfoy.

"Are you in a hurry or something?" Hermione asked. "We left quite abruptly. I'm afraid we've probably offended Jason."

"He's fine. It looks like it's going to rain and you're unwell. He'll understand." was Draco's reply.

At that moment, a harsh chilly wind blew past them and Hermione was grateful to have his scarf. With the agility of a Seeker, Draco moved his body to shield her from the wind and guided her closer. Closer than ever before, they walked side by side to the deserted alley, where Draco hastily let out his wand from its holster inside his sleeve and casted a disillusionment spell to the alley's entry, a warming spell to their vicinity, and a Muffliato charm; in that order.

Hermione was awed with the flawless swift execution of those three spells, all of which seemed to be done nonverbally. His wandwork had improved since their time in Hogwarts.

"Whoa, that's some wandwork," Hermione praised. "I didn't remember you being this advanced in Hogwarts." She teased him.

"I've got nothing but time," was his reply. Though it was said nonchalantly, Hermione could hear the underlying emotion; her chest constricted with pain. She remembered their conversation about the treatment he received from the rest of the wizarding world and how he dismissed the idea of him having a significant other, simply because he thought no one would want their name tarnished for being in a relationship with him.

What lonely life that must had been. And he had endured 4 years of it.

"It's a good thing you're friends with me," Hermione started, "because even though I admired your wandwork, mine is better."

Draco eyes bored down on hers. She looked tiny from his standing position. Her eyes were alighted with the delight of teasing him. Draco was captivated.

"You're wonderful," Draco said. "Your wandwork, I meant," he added while fixing the wind-blown scarf on Hermione's neck. Gently, inconspicuously, he swiped his thumb on her cheek. It was chill to the touch and had begun to redden from the cold air. In a short time, Draco seemed to have gained an affinity to touching her.

For Hermione, time froze. This was the second time she felt his touch. The first time back at the cafe, she thought she had imagined him caressing the underside of her eye. Now, she felt the swipe of his slightly rough thumb on her cheek and she saw the way his grey eyes went darker when it happened. It was real.

"Go home and sleep, Hermione." The suggestion sounded more like a demure order coming from him. His eyes found hers.

While maintaining their eye contact, Hermione stepped back and raised her wand, ready to Apparate. The intensity of his silvery eyes, however, brought out the previous symptoms. The butterflies in her stomach were consistent, a heavy thrumming possibly tattooing her insides. And thus, Hermione was enlightened. She had been a fool to thinking she was ill; she was simply infatuated.

Caught off guard indeed.

 **AN:  
** **I had planned for the next chapter to happen the next day, but the muse demanded for me to continue right where we left off. So here we are. Short chapter; still a bit rough. I'm sorry.  
** **My wonderful readers, thanks for reading. Your review made my day. Thank you.**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **kabg01 (ehehehe, she was a bit slow in this chapter too. Thank goodness; she finally realized it at the end though)**

 **ElizabethDM (at times I did get writer's block. My point exactly! Ron and Hermione were more brother and sister than soulmates. More Dramione interaction this time. It's time, isn't it?)**

 **iwasbotwp (That's one lunch I would love to avoid, if I could. Haven't thought that far ahead, really. Would u like it to happen?)**

 **Olicity Lover (giggling like a schoolgirl, exactly the kind of reaction I was looking for. How was this interaction? Steamy enough?)**

 **CharmQuest (I love her like that too. Hope you like this update)**

 **windyshoes (Draco let the restraint a bit loose in this chapter. Did it read okay?)**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (ehehe, from first to fiesta. Classic. Mine is Indonesian. Yup, Hermione caught the most serious illness of all! Ehehehe)**

 **SecretNinja (what do you think of this chapter? I'm nervous about it)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 14: The Letter**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
** **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

On Wednesday morning, after greetings were exchanged, Draco sat down on his usual seat for breakfast and found a letter placed neatly on top of the Daily Prophet beside his plate. As per usual, he decided to ignore them until he had finished his breakfast. It was a custom ingrained by his mother since he was old enough to understand that in the Malfoy family, one does not read while eating a meal.

He was stirring his cup of tea when he felt two pairs of eyes staring at him. The only two people there were his father and mother, but when he turned his head up from his tea, they were not looking at his direction, so Draco turned back to stirring his tea and adding some milk and sugar.

When he was sipping his tea, he felt it again; his parents were staring at him. This time he knew, he would never catch them in the act should he whipped his head again, no matter how fast; his parents were too advanced for that. So he did the only thing he could, he addressed the matter head on.

"Father, Mother, is there something you would like to tell me?" His eyes bored down on them, in turn.

Lucius, very deliberately, ignored his son's question with a nonsensical sound. His eyes were focused back on his egg white omelette; Draco wondered if Lucius' neck would hurt from how fast he whipped it back to avoid being caught staring.

Narcissa, the proper Malfoy's matriarch, raised the china cup with the most perfect pose imaginable, took a sip, put the cup back on the table, and stared back at her son with a look that was saying _I'm sure I don't know what you meant_.

Draco held his ground, his eyes demanding an answer.

"There was a letter that came for you," Narcissa simply replied.

"Yes, I know," said Draco, a bit puzzled as to why his parents felt the need to point that out when they knew he usually read his letters after his meals. "As usual, I will read it after my meal," he added for good measure.

"Of course," Narcissa concurred.

Both of the elder Malfoys resumed their breakfast, leaving Draco to his own thoughts - which was now focused on the letter - thanks to his parents' antics.

Draco took one look at the letter and knew why his parents were acting odd; his apparently meddling parents had seen the writing on the envelope. The blank ink inscribed eight words in total, _Hermione._

Draco put the napkin back to the top of his still-empty plate and reached for the letter. With a practiced move, the letter opener sliced through the envelope in neat cuts. It contained only one piece of small-sized paper with a cursive handwriting.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well._

 _I'm writing to let you know that I won't be coming to the cafe today. Ginny heard from Harry that I went home earlier yesterday and she decided to check up on me today, even when I already told her over and over again that I'm fine and that I just need to take a day off._

 _So, I'll be home, fending off the Weasley - soon to be Potter - Inquisition._

 _I only take today off, so if you're not otherwise occupied, I will see you tomorrow._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Hermione._

Draco was, in one word, amused. Their so-called daily encounters had become more of a habit, that it felt wrong to still call it an encounter, maybe a rendezvous? Whatever it was, Draco was elated that Hermione had considered their time together so important that she felt the need to inform him when she's not coming.

Thinking of Hermione, he hoped she'd get better soon. Which was weird when he thought about it, because back in the days, he would throw a party in Slytherin common room if he had heard that she was ill. But now, he couldn't even let her go yesterday without first giving her his scarf, making sure that she would be warm enough on her short trip to the alley.

Draco admitted to himself that something had changed with their relationship in the past week. However, he couldn't pinpoint exactly when the turning point was. It could probably happen when she forgave him, despite his thought that forgiveness was not something that he deserved, that was also the first time Draco noticed the true colour of her eyes.

Or it could probably happen when they shared their first laugh together, igniting something inside him that he thought had gone during the war. She brought out the lighter side of him.

Or when he first caught the scent of her hair when she had bumped into him, which was also the same day she had called him her friend, thus ensuring Draco's loyalty to her.

It could also happen when he first realized that he missed seeing her. Or it could go all the way back to Hogwarts when she first approached him and his family with her kindness.

Whenever it was, in Draco's eyes, she was forever changed.

Along the way, Hermione had transformed from the girl he had wronged - and to whom he owed an apology to - to the woman who was responsible for making him felt things he never thought he would ever experience.

For instance, never in a million years, would he ever imagine of having the urge to palm a woman's forehead to check her temperature. He was not the kind of man to do that kind of cheesy thing! Furthermore, he had wanted to touch her, all the time, and those touches weren't even sexual in nature. He remembered touching the faint shadow under her eye when he was tucking her curls and worried for her lack of sleep. And he remembered caressing her cheek when he was correcting his scarf on her dainty little neck just because he was afraid she was cold from the wind.

For every second he spent in her presence, Draco felt himself changing. And that felt liberating.

All this time he had been trying his best to deny the attraction he felt towards her; denied it to the very core of his existence. Denied the giddy feeling he always had when he was on his way to meet her. Denied the way his pulse quickened every time she accidentally touched him. Denied the way the thought of her kept him at peace.

He did it because there was only so much pain a man could experience. And with Hermione Granger, he needed to be careful. There were currently only two persons in the world who had the power of hurting him, should they chose to; both of them were having breakfast with him. And Hermione Granger had all the possibilities of becoming the third one. He needed to be _extra_ careful.

Draco knew that he had gone mental to even think of the unthinkable, especially since he had mostly everything against him. After all that had happened, he should be grateful she even called him her friend. He was sure should she choose to, she could have a variety of wizards throwing themselves at her feet. But now he had no choice. The meagre time he had spent with her had been the highlights of his days, and that was saying something. There was a current of the unexplainable between them. He had a taste of it and he was addicted. He knew she must have felt it too; she was a brilliant woman.

He had been accustomed with how the society treated him; Draco had learned not to react poorly to their condemnations. Hermione too, at one time, had learned to deal with the nastiness of public's opinion. He remembered a time back in Hogwarts when the Daily Prophet painted her red and she ignored them elegantly. If there were one woman who would be courageous enough to defy the wizarding world alongside him, that woman would be Hermione. And that was another reason he adored her.

No more denial. He had to make his intentions known, while making sure that Hermione did not run for the hill when he did it. It was a double edge sword, of course. But when it came to matters of the heart, Hermione Granger was as slow as a turtle. It could be years before she sees him in that light. Draco Malfoy was not known for his patience, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

"Is everything alright?" Narcissa interrupted Draco's thoughts.

"Yes, Mother. All's well."

"Do I want to know what _that_ smile meant?" she continued.

Draco inserted the paper back to the envelope and set it aside. He took the napkin and prepared himself for his morning meal, all the while postponing his reply to his mother's question. "I'm sure I don't know what you meant, Mother."

"I believe you mother was referring to your devious smile," Lucius added, unable to pretend he wasn't in tuned with the conversation.

"Malfoys' smiles were always devious, Father." Draco answered in finality. His breakfast had appeared on the plate and he started to dig in.

"Touché," was Lucius' reply.

"I have asked Binky to prepare the sunroom for our lunch this Saturday." Narcissa changed the subject, knowing her son would not cave in to her previous question. "He could spell the scenery when it rains."

"Thank you, Mother. I've forgotten to say that your invitation was well received. But there's no need to spell the scenery." Draco knew that despite her complaints, Hermione loved the rain.

"Father, I believe the wards and the Floo Network should be altered on Saturday morning. Could you please do so? I have yet to discuss the detail with Hermione, but I believe it would be more comfortable to use the Floo Powder instead of Apparating here."

Both of his parents noticed that their son was addressing Hermione Granger with her given name.

"Of course." Lucius replied. He exchanged a look with his wife, who was apparently holding in her excitement. Lucius had no doubt he would not hear the end of it today. She had went on and on about the girl for days, demanding him to behave once the girl was at the Manor. He had grumbled that he was a grown man and was not a dog that he needed to behave. But his wife had not heard him, and he had been too smart to say it again. After all, his wife had dared to defy the Dark Lord, and Lucius was not a newbie to her temper. Furthermore, he had no intention of behaving rudely to the girl. It had been so long since last he saw the carefree smile on his son's face.

 **AN:  
** **I'm blown away with the reviews for the previous chapter. Blown away! Thank you, you wonderful readers!  
** **Sorry it took too long to get this chapter out. For those of you who requested a Draco's POV, here it is! Hope you like it enough to review.**

 **Acknowledgement:**

 **krumpingxballerina (always wonderful to hear from new reader. I'm super excited and humbled to read your review and I did it with a shit-eating grin too! An invitation to the Potters and Weasleys are possible. Thanks for the idea of attending Ginny's first Quidditch game, that's brilliant!)**

 **Nix Ginevra Black (Draco has folded into the cause, expect more touching and flirting next! Hermione won't know what hit her)**

 **iwasbotwp (ehehehe, a small step signifying a big step indeed. I'm craving for some scenery change, plus I want them to expand from their comfort zone. Will work on that soon)**

 **kabg01 (She was a bit slow at first, but she'll be brilliant after that. But if Draco Malfoy was hitting on her, I'm sure she'll have some brain-dead moments again. Please excuse her for that. Ehehe)**

 **Olicity Lover (I'm glad u loved it. Please love this one too)**

 **CharmQuest (you did? That's wonderful! I was aiming to please, so if you're grinning when you're reading, it made my day. I'm glad u loved it)**

 **jperks (yippe, like I said, always wonderful to hear from new reader. Thanks for the encouragement. It was always nerve wracking when I'm about to post a new chapter, so thanks)**

 **Guess (sweet sweet torture. I love that! If it was me, I'm gonna delay giving the scarf back. But this is Hermione we're talking about; she'll give it back, for sure)**

 **BBG336 (you got it! Draco's POV!)**

 **SecretNinja (I'm scared of the lunch on Saturday. I really do. I'm afraid the hype won't be as good as the chapter. But I'll do the best I can. Wish me luck)**

 **Liz (thank you, your kind words meant a lot to me. I want this story to be quite relatable, so I'm glad you find it so)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 15: The Revelation**

 **AN:  
** **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
** **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

True to form, Ginny Weasley barged into Hermione's flat with a magically sealed package of chicken soup, only minutes after she had sent Hermione a letter saying that she was coming over.

Hermione, on the other hand, had just sent the owl off with a letter for Draco and was sure she sported a frantic look on her face — like a kid being caught with an empty cookie jar right before dinner.

Ginny took one look at Hermione's face and uttered a fact that was obvious to the both of them, "You're not sick."

Hermione shook her head in two quick continuous shakes, even though it was not posed as a question — rather a statement.

"I am going to put this in the kitchen," Ginny gestured to the package on her hand, "and then you're going to sit with me on the sofa and you're going to tell me _everything_." She deliberately elongated the last word to make her point. Determinedly, Ginny strode to Hermione's kitchen — her vibrant red hair swished left and right — and yelled for affirmation, "Everything!"

Hermione shook her head, unable to conceal her mirth with the redhead's antic. She rarely let Ginny pushed her around like she did with the boys in her life. Both of them were strong-headed women, but they got along wonderfully well. Today, Hermione felt the need to give Ginny a full reign. She needed someone to talk to, someone other than Harry and Ron, and Ginny was the obvious answer.

Hermione started to sit down but hurriedly get up again because she sat on an unfamiliar soft object that she knew was not a part of her sofa. One look confirmed it; it was Draco's scarf. She didn't have enough time to let her mind wander to the man who'd been persistent on bugging her thoughts lately because she could hear Ginny's footsteps coming from the kitchen. Hermione rested the scarf on top of the sofa's headrest for fear of sitting down on it again. Odds were the prat would somehow knew and would whine about it over and over again, as if she'd committed a fashion crime for possibly ruining the structural integrity or the fluffiness of his — no doubt over expensive — scarf.

"What's with that smile?" Ginny's sharp question brought Hermione back to the present.

"What smile?" was Hermione reply, thoroughly bewildered with the question, obviously was not aware that she had indeed smile while thinking of Draco Malfoy.

"Don't you dare answering me with another question, Hermione!" Ginny threatened, her outburst was a long time coming. "Harry had been acting mighty strange since he visited you on Monday night. He had that faraway stunned look on his face and refused to tell me why. Even when I badgered him over and over again, he still won't say a thing!" She let out an outraged breath and continued on, "Ron was no different, he was even more tight-lipped than Harry, if not more horrified. So naturally, I turned to you. You know what's going on, don't you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but was unable to say anything because Ginny was not yet finished. She gave Hermione her sternest expression, "something is definitely going on. I was told that you were sick and had to go home earlier yesterday. So when I heard that you're taking a day off, I rushed here as soon as I could. Only to find you here, definitely not ill, grinning like an idiot. Now please don't test my patience any longer and spare me the indignity of begging it out of y—"

Hermione raised one hand to stop Ginny from ranting uncontrollably; she really could go on and on. "Gin, it was never my intention to keep you out of the loop. I had planned to talk about this last weekend, but we were celebrating your acceptance to the Holyhead Harpies, I didn't want to rain on your parade..."

"So you chose instead to punish me like this?" replied Ginny, with an overly dramatic sigh of woe.

"Oh stop it, you," said Hermione. "I talked to Harry and Ron on Monday night, which continued long after midnight because of your brother! I was too exhausted to even function properly yesterday and I honestly thought that I was ill at lunch with Dra— er, um," stuttered Hermione, "with, um — stuff...happened, okay?! I — I just — I thought I was ill, and then the touches!" said Hermione, almost squeaking. "I thought I was imagining it, but then it happened again and I just froze. And then with just one last look, it just hit me like lightning, I wasn't ill — butterflies..."

 _Butterflies?  
_ Ginny looked at Hermione like a normal person — both Wizard and Muggle alike — would look at a three-headed dog, with amazement, and a touch of fear.

"You're not having a fever," said Ginny, right after she put her hand on Hermione's forehead. "I'm sure if you're in any kind of curse, you would be the first one to know. But honestly, Hermione, you're not making any sense," said Ginny, feeling slightly frustrated. "Why don't you take a deep breath and start from the beginning?"

Ginny's hand rested on the back of Hermione's shoulder and started to make a soothing back and forth motion. She had never seen Hermione in such a state. And with a less-than-eloquent, or more appropriately — a jumbled — pattern of speech no less. Hermione was the most articulated person Ginny had ever known!

Hermione palmed her face with both hands and grunted, as ladylike as any distraught woman could in similar situation. "I'm in trouble," Hermione mumbled.

"What kind of trouble?" The soothing motion accelerated in response.

Another grunt and a deep sigh later, Hermione answered, "the kind of trouble in which an intense look from Draco Malfoy gave me butterflies..."

The soothing motion stopped.

After an appropriate amount of silence, which was understandable after that kind of admission, Hermione took a peek to take a look at Ginny, out of fear that she might have a heart attack.

"Okay," said Ginny, after finally finding back her voice. "Okay, that would explain the looks I saw on both Harry's and Ron's faces — And your idiotic grin earlier — Elaborate..."

Hermione took a deep breath and started from the very beginning, which was four years ago, when she first approached the Malfoys after the Battle of Hogwarts. During all the commotion — a combination of euphoria, relief, and sadness — no one noticed the conversation happened between what seemed to be odd participants at that time. Especially in Ginny's case who had just lost her brother. Ginny gave out a subtle nod, a sign for Hermione to go on. There's no need to dwell too long in the past, what's past was past. They all had made their peace.

And so Hermione continued with her first encounter with Draco in Sinful Delights — which Ginny knew was Hermione's favourite Muggle establishment called a cafe — to the moment he apologised — to which Ginny let out an appropriate continuous gasps.

The first time they bantered like normal people, the moment they became friends, the easy way they had an argument — or more — with one another, her talk with Harry and Ron, in which Harry heard her called out Draco's name in her sleep. Involuntary, Ginny squeaked. Hermione pretended not to hear, ignoring the warmness of her cheeks.

She continued her story to Draco's conversation with his parents regarding their friendship — which resulted with an invitation to the Manor this coming Saturday — and the overtly cute way Draco tried to explain that he would make sure nothing bad would ever happen to her in the Malfoy Manor.

"I was afraid at first," said Hermione, "not of the manor itself, but of the nightmares a memory of what happened there might induced..." Ginny grasped Hermione's hands, supporting her. "But then Draco — he tried very hard to help ease my fear. I had felt that he was not the same hateful boy that I knew, but I never thought that he would be the one to finally let me leave the horror behind."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know how to properly explain this," Hermione started, "but to sum it up, he promised he would not leave me alone while I was there and _that_ — dear Merlin — _that_ , made me feel safe."

"Argh, that should have been the first clue!" cried Hermione. "I didn't know why I was too stupid to see the sign! Maybe because afterwards he just casually tucked my hair behind my ear while his thumb happened to fall tenderly on my cheek and was playing swipey with it. Poof! There goes my sanity! And yes, I know swipey is not an actual word! And you know what else he did? He put his scarf around my neck because we both thought I was sick and he just casually swiped his thumb again on my cheek! Double poof! My sanity went down the drain!"

Hermione took a deep breath, and just when Ginny was about to respond, she yelled again. "And those silvery eyes of him! Looking at me like I'm the only woman in the world, was he kidding me with that? I was hyperventilating when I Apparated home yesterday! That — that — that... PRAT!"

The last word was shouted. Hermione was breathing fast like a runner after a long marathon, or in this case, just a woman who's trying to run away from life's surprise reality. Realizing what she had just said to Ginny, the red hue on Hermione's face could not possibly get any redder.

"Ah, yes, _butterflies_ ," Ginny commented, "now I understand... But I do have one question though — What on Merlin's name are you going to do?"

"I don't know..." Hermione replied in a small voice. Ginny could not remember the time when she ever heard Hermione Granger uttered those three words before. Now in turn, Ginny was the one in loss for words!

"This is all happening too fast! Maybe I am cursed. Do you think I should go to St. Mungo's and have them check my sanity?" asked Hermione. "Ginny?"

"You are not cursed," replied Ginny seconds later, "even though the man in question is Draco Malfoy, I don't think you're cursed. What you are though, are in deep shite."

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped.

"But you are! You spent your childhood fighting a mad man. And when you won, there were a horde of mad men disguised as fans trying to get into your pants, and the public wanted — wants you to accept at least one eligible wizard and start a family like a good little witch. So when they find out — and they will find out — that the only witch in the magical trio has the hot for none other than Draco Malfoy, I assure you, adopted sister of mine, the shite will hit the fan."

"Argh, thanks for that imagery," cried Hermione, "...and I so don't have the hot for Draco Malfoy!"

"Uh huh," was all Ginny said, ignoring Hermione's rebuff completely.

Hermione sighed, leaned back, rested her head on the headrest and was immediately surrounded with the scent she became very familiar with in the last few days, Draco's. She rubbed her head against the scarf, lost in the softness and the warmness the memory of it evoked in her — and let out another sigh.

"What am I to do?"

"Whatever you need to be happy," answered Ginny.

"As simple as that?"

"Yup!"

"Wow, you are definitely handling this news better than Harry and Ron. I thought there would be more resistance — or yelling involved."

"I can still yell, if that's what you want," Ginny said cheekily. "But there'll be no resistance whatsoever from me."

"And why is that?" Hermione asked, truly curious.

"It's simple really," answered Ginny. "In all the time I've known you, I have never seen the kind of smile you had on your face today."

Hermione went pink. "I do smile, you know. It's not like I spent all my time brooding. You've seen me smile plenty of times before..."

"I did," said Ginny, "but this time it's different, and you know it."

Hermione said nothing, no use to deny it now, not even to wipe the smugness out of Ginny's face.

"What if — what if I was wrong? Maybe I'm imagining things. Maybe it's the anticipation of a new blossoming friendship. Maybe he—"

"Hermione," Ginny interrupted her rant, "I know this is all so new and so sudden, and it's scary as hell. I understand your hesitation, I really do — But answer me honestly, in the past few years, has there been any man who came close to making you feel like this?"

Hermione's face was frantic, terrified and excited at the same time, with an underlying sense of amazement for having finally experienced the rush of fancying a man with an intensity she had never felt before.

Ginny only had one proper response, "I rest my case."

 **AN:  
** **I do apologise for updating so very late. Real life, the highs and lows of it, have finally caught up with me. I am sorry, I truly am. I hope you're all still interested to read this story.**

 **Won't you please review and let me know your thoughts?**

 **PS: who else is excited for July 31st?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 16: The Surprise**

 **AN:  
Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here. **

**Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up from the arrays of contracts, forms, and other regulatory nightmares she came to love and hate, which was an integrated part of her job — and found a very distraught Emilie standing on the doorsill of her office.

"Hullo, Emilie," greeted Hermione warmly. Emilie was 2 years her junior in Hogwarts and had been working in the department for more than a year. She too believed in the importance of peaceful unification and had been a true gem in Hermione's team. "Are you alright? Is something wrong?" Hermione rushed to the door, worried after seeing the uncertainty on Emilie's normally cheerful face.

"Um, there's someone here for you," Emilie started to say, "but I'm not sure whether you would like to see him or not. So I asked him to wait upfront."

"Oh, — who is it?"

"Draco Malfoy..." answered Emilie, her eyes cautiously staring at Hermione's face, looking for signs on how to proceed with the situation. Emilie was a brilliant woman, but even she was stumped with the emotions flitted about on Hermione's face right about now.

"Oh..." Hermione repeated her previous interjection, unaware that her feet had decided to walk the couple steps they needed to pass Emilie and to the front of her office. A couple steps over was Draco Malfoy — casually leaning against the wall, with a huge familiar package on his hand, acting like he didn't have a care in the world — but Hermione knew better. She could see the underlying tension in the way he constantly ran his fingers through his hair and from the stiffness of his jaw. He was nervous, and Hermione was sure she was the only one who noticed it. The Malfoys really did know how to conceal their emotions from the public's eyes.

Seeing him there, stared venomously by most of the ministry's employees who were getting ready to go to lunch, Hermione temporarily forgotten her inner emotional chatter and confidently strode over. She was a woman on a mission.

"Draco!" Hermione yelled out his given name, very deliberately, with a big smile on her face.

Draco's head whipped to the direction of Hermione's booming voice and was immediately intrigued with the glint he saw on her eyes. He immediately straightened his stance and subtly raised an eyebrow. _What are you up to?_

The reply grin on Hermione's face was unsettling him, but Draco was left with no time to think about it because Hermione had stopped her powerful stride very close to his personal space.

"What are you doing?" Draco whispered, amazingly without moving his lips too much.

"What are you doing here?" parroted Hermione, totally ignoring his whispered question, still in her loud voice mode. "I thought we had agreed to meet there for lunch!"

A second too late for the usually quick-witted Draco, he finally answered in the same volume as Hermione. "Ah yes, I knew what our agreement was, but I figured we could lunch in today. The weather has taken a turn for the worse."

"Wonderful idea!" replied Hermione, overtly cheerful, "come in to my office, we could have our lunch there after I finish some works."

Draco held off the childish attempt of replying with the peppier version of Hermione's "Wonderful idea!" and compromised instead on a "Lead the way".

They both walked the several steps back to Hermione's office accompanied by the stares of every eye in their vicinities. Hermione stopped near the entry to her office and greeted her co-workers. "Guys, this is my friend, Draco Malfoy." At that, the whole room — minus her stunned co-workers — seemed to gasp at the same time, apparently those were the words they needed to seal the deal.

Hermione, the courageous woman that she was, was completely unfazed. Without delay, she proceeded to introduce Draco to the small pool of her co-workers, and when she had finished the round, she guided slash pushed him inside her office and closed the door.

"You do know what's going to happen now after that stunt of yours, right?" asked Draco after confirming that the door was firmly closed. He could hear the chatters started outside.

"Wow, this is such a nice office, Hermione. I envy you," said Hermione sarcastically.

"Wow, this is such a nice office, Hermione. I envy you, you crazy woman!" Draco parroted, with a little minor addition. "You do know what's going to happen now after that stunt of yours, right?" he repeated. "The whole ministry — if not the whole country — will hear about this before the day ended!"

Hermione Granger, who was already a beautiful woman by then, let out the most dazzling mischievous smile Draco had ever seen, and became even more beautiful in his eyes. "Exactly..." she said smugly, while still smiling, leaving Draco a besotted wizard — making him a little craze with thoughts of closing the small gap between them and attacking that smiling lips.

"Draco?" called Hermione.

"Huh?" Draco replied brilliantly.

Hermione looked at him weirdly, wondering why he had that faraway look on his face. "I asked you twice already. But you were lost in your own world. What were you thinking just now?"

"Was that you question?" asked Draco, distracting her with another question.

"What—"

"The question that you asked me twice already, was it about what I was thinking?"

"No, but—"

"Then why are you focusing on that? I believe you were asking about why I'm here," said Draco. In truth, he really didn't hear if that was what Hermione had asked earlier while he was imagining kissing her, but that was the most logical question she could have asked. Distract, distract, and distract was Draco's motto at the moment.

For the second time that day, Hermione looked at Draco weirdly. He stood his ground; their eyes remained locked with one another. The brown ones were filled with questions, while the silver ones pretended nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Okaaay," Hermione finally conceded, "why are you here then?"

"Well," started Draco, "the weather really do get worse and worse by the seconds, so I thought it would be better to bring our lunches here, instead of having you walk through the rain from your home to the cafe." Draco walked to the small round table and set down the familiar package — that was in fact the take-away goody bag from Sinful Delights — and said in a smaller voice, "I didn't want you to fall sick again."

Unbeknown to Draco, who was taking things out of the goody bag and organizing them on top of the table, Hermione felt the warmness spread out from the fire in her stomach to the rest of her body. She walked to the table and stood next to him, their shoulders side by side, leaving no distance between the two. Draco stopped moving for a second due to the sudden closeness and then proceeded to opening the smaller packages.

Hermione reached one of the packages closest to her and slowly opened it. "Thank you — Draco," she mumbled under her breath.

Draco's reply was a shrug of his shoulder and a nonsensical sound.

Once all the smaller packages were opened, they sat down on the round stackable chairs Hermione had stashed under the table and looked at the feast Draco had brought for the two of them. Two sandwiches and four desserts in total.

"We couldn't possibly eat all of this!" cried Hermione.

"You can't, but _we_ definitely can," replied Draco easily, "just eat whatever you want and I'll finish the rest."

Draco took a container and moved it closer to Hermione. "Here, I brought you your favourite pie."

It was an apple pie. At one point during their conversation, Hermione had mentioned that most pie in the Wizarding world was filled with pumpkin — but no matter how delicious they were, Hermione would always choose apple pie over pumpkin pie. She shouldn't be too surprised that Draco remembered that little tidbit of information, but the fact that he chose to buy that for her because of her preference — did.

"Wanna share?" asked Hermione.

"You're not hungry?" Draco asked back, his tone filled with concern.

"I am, actually. But I've been eyeing that sandwich too," Hermione gestured to one of the two sandwiches Draco bought, "but I can't eat both of them—"

"Afraid they go straight to your hip?" teased Draco cheekily, which earned him a smack on the arm.

"No! I want some of your éclair too!" Hermione roared.

"Hitting me, taking my éclair — _now_ I know you're no longer sick."

"Oh, shush and eat, will you!" ordered Hermione. A small smile lingered on both of their faces.

Hermione took one half of the egg mayo sandwich and started to eat. Draco took the full sandwich next to it. The silence between them was comfortable, so they ate in silence. Sometimes their arms would occasionally touched and left a tingling sensation behind, which they both tried to ignore.

"Do you think they're still out there? Waiting for us to come out?" Hermione suddenly asked, right before taking a big bite of her sandwich.

That proved to be the wrong question to ask because a frown appeared on Draco's face. "Hermione," started Draco. "You do realize what you've done, right?" Draco turned to look at her. "You addressed me as your friend, in front of a room full of ministry employees, with your loud voice."

"Umh humh," Hermione confirmed, her mouth still full.

"It's going on the headline of tomorrow's Daily Prophet, that you can be sure of. Furthermore, I'm used to public's backlash, but I'm afraid that you will bear the brunt of it too now that you're associated with me. I—"

"Draco, I have given this a lot of thoughts. You coming here was a good time to let it out in the open. We shouldn't have to hide our...friendship from any body. When you came here in the first place, what did you think would happen?"

"Obviously I wasn't thinking that far off," Draco replied, "but I also didn't expect you to flaunt our friendship like that. I was thinking maybe you would escort me to a secluded place to eat our lunch whilst letting them think we have a scheduled meeting together."

"Draco, I'm a Gryffindor. We don't roll that way."

"I know," Draco said, "you're more of the _in your face_ type. Running towards danger instead of away from it. But this could be quite dangerous for you, Hermione. I should've think things through first. I better go—"

"Draco!" Hermione yelled, surprising Draco with the intensity of her piercing stare. "Sit your arse down and listen to me."

Draco sat back down — more of an automatic response out of fear of being cursed by the brightest witch of her age — than because he wanted too.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" asked Hermione.

"Um — Is that a trick question or a rhetoric one?"

"Neither. I'm trying to prove a point here." Hermione sighed.

"Okay? What point would that be?"

"I am not a fool who think that just because we defeated one mad tyrant and his followers, then suddenly the world is a safe place. Safer? Yes, I agree we made a safer world. But safe? No."

Hermione took a breath and continued, "there will always be people out there who have their own misguided views of the world, who think of people like me as a disease to be cured and or annihilated. They might not make a frontal assault like they did when backed with a group of like-minded people, but they are out there. They exist, waiting for another false leader to fight for their purity crusade. The world will never be free of discrimination and unfair treatment. So a danger is always imminent for me, Draco. That's why I'm doing my job. That's why I live in a secured flat in the Muggle world. That's why Harry and Ron joined the Auror Department. We refused to succumb to the fear of what these people might do next. We decided to live our lives while still being vigilant. So no, Draco. I will not back away from this even in the face of imminent danger. What you do next, is up to you..."

Upon finishing her monologue, Hermione took a long sip of water and started to eat her apple pie, deliberately avoided looking at Draco's face, afraid if he might decide to run away all together — which was unfortunate because the way he was looking at her then would be a clear indication of his blossoming affection.

"I forgot if I've mentioned this to you or not, but I'm going to Egypt for business tomorrow and won't be back until very late in the evening," said Draco casually. "And so I wanted to discuss our plan this Saturday now, because I might won't be able to discuss the details with you tomorrow."

Discreetly, Hermione let out a small relieved sigh.

"Oh? I don't think you've mentioned a business trip there," replied Hermione, taking the cue from Draco. "I do know you have a business agreement with the Wizarding world in Egypt. Is there a problem though?"

"No, no problem. I just have to oversee some of the goods they'll be delivering tomorrow. But the plantation was quite huge, it would easily take the whole day." Draco took one half of the éclair and put the rest in Hermione's plate. He scooped the uneaten half of the apple pie and put it on his plate, knowing Hermione was finished with it.

"Okay, safe trip then," said Hermione. "What details do you want to discuss about?"

"I've been thinking that it would be more convenient for you to travel to the manor using the Floo Powder instead of Apparating there. Would you like me to pick you up at your flat? I'm quite good with direction."

"Don't trouble yourself with picking me up. I will be fine using the Floo Powder. When am I expected to arrive?"

"I will wait for you in front of the fireplace starting from 11:30. So anytime from then would be fine. Lunch will be served at 12."

"Okay..." Hermione answered, absentmindedly chewing on her half of the éclair.

"Hermione, if you have hesitation, I could move the venue elsewhere—"

"No, it's alright Draco. I wasn't worried with the location, not anymore," said Hermione. "I am just nervous about meeting your parents."

"Don't be," replied Draco, "the two of them are quite excited to meeting you. They were happy when they found out that I've befriended you."

"Okay then," said Hermione, while looking over the remains of the lunch. The only item still available was the rest of her egg mayo sandwich. "Whoa, I can't believe we ate it all. Want to finish my sandwich?"

"I would if only I practiced some restraint with the desserts," Draco said while he and Hermione cleaned up the table and threw away the trash. "But now I'm too full. Why don't you keep it for later? I know for a fact that you like snacking in the afternoon."

 _Smack!  
_ Hermione was getting faster and faster with her response to his teasing. Draco only grinned.

"Thanks for this," Hermione gestured to her packed half sandwich.

"It was my pleasure," replied Draco. "I will see you on Saturday."

Just when Draco about to turn for the door, Hermione could not help to comment, "even if this does go straight to my hip, there's nothing you can do to get rid of me, you know. You're stuck with me. Ha!"

The comments were meant as a witty response — no matter how late it was delivered — to his previous tease. But for Draco, he took it rather differently. "I wouldn't even dream to get rid of you—"

In a move only a Seeker could do, Draco closed the gap between the two of them — surprising Hermione — leaned down to match Hermione's height while maintaining their eye contact, and landed the softest barely-there kiss on Hermione's left cheek.

"Hermione," he greeted her goodbye and turned swiftly to the door.

Hermione was left standing in her office, wondering how to breathe.

 **AN:  
So, it's time to amp up the flirting. I hope the pace was agreeable though. Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter and review.  
I'm floored with the reviews of the previous chapter. Thanks to the most wonderful readers that are you guys! This is how I could show my appreciation, a new chapter just a day after the last. I hope you enjoyed it. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 17: The Saturday Lunch**

 **AN:  
Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.  
English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here. **

**Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy. **

**Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

Draco Malfoy entered the library in Malfoy Manor at exactly 11:20 AM. The suit that he was wearing was one of the more modern ones that he owned; Black outer, black pants, dark grey shirt, and dark loafers. He always favoured his clothes in a monochromatic style, which might be the only thing that wouldn't change. He opted out from wearing a dress robe since he was no longer used of using one.

Ashamed as he was to admit that it took approximately an hour of both his and Binky's time to help him get ready for this special occasion, in the end — it was worth it — in more ways than one. Binky had been beside himself with joy when Draco had summoned him to his chamber and asked for his assistance. From the apparently unconscious mutterings of his house elf, Draco was reminded that the last time he had asked for assistance to be dressed was years ago, in a much happier time — before the Dark Lord terrorized his family. Since then, Draco had lost the will of the seemingly inconsequential effort to present the best version of him, even if it was only through the menial job of choosing clothes.

After Draco was ready, Binky had done the one thing he rarely did — he had asked for the opportunity to meet their guest. Seeing the huge glassy eyes of his house elf filled with hope, that was when it dawned on Draco — it seemed that he himself was the last person to notice that he was finally living again, and that the sole reason for it was coming over for lunch.

Focusing his mind on the present, Draco walked to the reading sofa facing the fireplace and sat down. His eyes focused on the burning fire nearby, imagining the appearance of the woman who was responsible for his excited — albeit nervous — smile.

Knowing Hermione, she would probably already waiting on her side of the fireplace, waiting for the agreed upon time, with an impatient look on her face. That alone was enough to keep the smile on his face.

 _Pop!  
_ "Master Draco, would Miss Hermione want a sliced lemon in her water?"

Draco sighed. During his walk from his chamber to the library, Binky had Apparrated and Disapparated with questions about Hermione's likes and dislikes enough times to make Draco wished he had been smart enough to move the lunch to an outside venue. But after seeing the look of joy on Binky's eyes, Draco didn't have the heart to tell him off. After all, Binky just wanted to please her — Draco could not argue with that.

"Water with sliced lemon should be fine, Binky."

"Very good, Master Draco," said Binky, right after he swiped the invisible dust off Draco's shoulder.  
 _Pop!_

"Ugh!" Draco moaned, running his fingers through his promptly slicked hair, making it slightly curly. Binky was really tearing off his patience.

"Is that really the proper way to welcoming your guest? _Ugh?_ " asked Hermione, her eyes twinkled with amusement.

Draco looked up from his sitting position on the sofa and was greeted with a vision that would be in his memory until the day his mind fail him.

As with any Floo Network travelling, one would be enshrouded with a burst of green flame around one's body from the starting fireplace to the designated fireplace. Hermione Granger emerged from the fireplace with the same normal green flame, which had the mass unappealing effect on every wizards and witches alike, due to the colouring of the powder. But what Draco did not count on — was the effect of the light from the fire behind Hermione after the green flame had diminished.

She was bathed in an ethereal fiery glow that made her hair gleaming like the sky at dusk, her fair skin looked warm and soft to the touch, her red ruffled dress greatly complimented her overall complexion. She was a phoenix reborn, and after years of being in the dark — the fiery light had finally reached him.

Determined — to finally set things in motion — Draco stood up and walked slowly towards Hermione. Each was transfixed by the other's gaze, unable to look away. When he finally stopped — mere inches from her standing position — he saw a tiny speck of soot on Hermione's cheek and smiled fondly at her. His thumb was on her cheek before his brain even finished giving the order.

Having been in the same situation with the same man before, Hermione knew and accepted the fact that boundary is not a word Draco Malfoy was familiar with. He had no regards to the elevated heartbeat, clammy hands, and hyperventilated breathing — all were obviously caused by his touch.

"You are a vision..." Draco said, his tone low. The rest of the sentence was left unsaid. He found himself too bewitched to say more.

"Um— thank you," replied Hermione, while thanking the God above that she had had some practice from being this close to him and therefore not immediately swooned. Especially after his previous surprise kiss — which was still left unexplained. However, the choice of his words alone was enough to make her weak in the knee.  
 _Stop it, Hermione! He was only being polite!_

"Welcome to my home, Hermione," greeted Draco, tilting his head ever so slightly just to add that dazzling effect — caused by the combination of seeing his icy silver eyes through the tresses of his newly-developed curls — that made Hermione itching to smack him for doing it in the first place.

Unbeknown to Hermione, Draco saw the sudden stink eyes she was giving him — knowing full well she was restraining herself from smacking him for teasing her like that. But all's fair in war and love, and this was both. Draco had no intention to play fair; he was a Slytherin after all. He would use all the means at his disposal — and it was just his luck that Hermione seemed to find his look appealing.

"Shall we?" Gallantly, Draco offered Hermione his arm.

When Hermione did nothing but looked at him with a suspicious gaze, Draco raised an eyebrow — clearly challenging her. With a _humph_ , Hermione entwined her arm with his and they both walked side by side towards the high-wooden door leading to the hallway.

"You have an impressive library, Draco." Hermione commented in awe. She harnessed all of her will power to not deviate from her path. Kept on reminding herself that there were another two Malfoys waiting for her for lunch.

"I chose this fireplace as your entry point just to see that look on your face," he replied easily.

"Am I really that obvious?"

"At times you are," said Draco.

"Oh really? Tell me what I'm thinking now," challenged Hermione.

"Easy — you were hoping there's enough time for you to explore the library."

"How did you—"

"Like I said, at times you're quite easy to read," said Draco smugly. "Before you maim me though, I think it's important for my health that you know I've cleared up my schedule today to accompany you to explore the library after our lunch. Should you want to, of course."

"I'd love to!" Hermione said excitedly, cutting of his words. "Thank you, Draco. That'd be lovely!" Her hand accidentally grasped his arm tighter in her excitement. Draco smiled contently.  
 _So far so good._

"So, do you have any pointers about what is normally talked about during a Malfoy lunch?" Hermione asked casually, but Draco could hear the tension in her voice.

"Well, we haven't had any proper guest since after the trial. Meetings are usually held in an outside venue. Other than that, we mostly kept to ourselves. I believe my parents were quite traumatized from the last time a — certain group of people were invited in and then took control of the manor — and our lives..."

Hermione could not imagine how lonely that must have been. But her mind could only focus on one particular detail, "I'm the first guest since then?!" There was horror in her tone.

"Well, if you put it that way — yes," said Draco. "But before you're too worked up about it, they invited you because we're friends. As simple as that. They just wanted to get to know you. Please don't worry about it."

"Your friend, right — right, I'm your friend. Of course it made sense they wanted to see me because I'm your friend. Of course..." Hermione repeated, making sure she also remember that she was there as a friend — and nothing more.

Draco manoeuvred Hermione to face him. Both of his hands started their treks from her forearms to her upper arms and stayed there, grasping them for effect. Hermione stood still, the hair on her arms stood on end. Her mind was lost down the drain due to the sudden close proximity and the tingling sensation caused by his wandering hands.

"Hermione, relax," said Draco, comforting her. "I have promised to never leave your side, and I intend to keep that promise. Okay?"

"Not even to go to the loo?" Hermione asked, half teasing, half really worried — either way still proud that her wit had not left her.

"Er — advanced as I am, and cultured too. I'm afraid I haven't mastered that particular art. But I assure you, my parents don't bite—"

"That's true," added Narcissa Malfoy calmly from the opened door of the sunroom, her eyes stealthily eyeing the position of her son's hands. Lucius Malfoy was the one who opened the door when he heard voices in the corridor. He too had witnessed the closeness of the so-called friends. "I don't believe there's ever been a Malfoy with a fondness to biting before. Rest assured there shall be no biting here today, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt like smacking the back of Draco's head for good measure for putting her in this awkward and bizarre position.

Draco sighed. From the way Hermione fidgeted, it was obvious she was itching to hit him if only they were alone.

"Mother, Father, may I remind you both of your promises to behave?"

"Son, may I remind you that you're the one who brought up the topic in the first place." Narcissa pointed it out, slyly.

Draco sighed again. It was wise to choose his battle and let this one go. He had the tell-tale of a headache forming already. "Mother, father," he started, "I know introduction is moot, but nevertheless, let me reintroduce you to my Hermione..."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Draco knew the slip he had made. Considering his audiences, there were zero chance in hell that they would have missed that slip — and the possessive note it carried.

He glanced first at his parents, who had apparently excelled at talking to each other without saying a word.  
 _Did you hear that?_ were exchanged between the two elder Malfoys — if Draco were asked to guess their mental conversation. Their faces betrayed nothing.

Hermione, on the other hand, had a less refined reaction.  
 _Your what?_ was etched all over her face.

Draco replied with a smile — a wicked one at that — leaving Hermione bewildered with what his words truly meant. Hermione felt the familiar urge to kissing him and wringing his neck at the same time.

"Welcome to our home, Miss Granger," said Lucius Malfoy — the master strategy whose capability to read a situation at a glance was well known. And at that moment, a well-placed distraction was needed. He knew his son would want to have _that_ conversation in private.

"Uh, thank you Mr. Malfoy," replied Hermione. Apparently Lucius had succeeded in distracting her. The young woman's eyes shifted to the longhaired Malfoy and she was surprised to see the almost identical grey eyes filled with mirth.

From the way Draco spoke of his parents, Hermione knew they too had somewhat changed. That's why she had agreed to the invitation. But to see the usually contempt-filled eyes transformed into the amused ones looking at her right then, Hermione was again at a loss.

Draco's parents walked to the table set up for four near the huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the vast expanse of the Manor's garden.

"Hermione?" asked Draco, he offered her his arm once more.

Hermione, who was still in a daze, took Draco's proffered hand and felt herself being guided to the table. He pulled out the chair overlooking the windows for her to sit and immediately took the seat on her left; unconsciously making sure that Hermione was seated on the side of his dominant hand. Narcissa took the seat opposite Hermione and Lucius sat down on the last remaining seat opposite Draco.

Being seated in the same table for lunch with not only one, but also three Malfoys, would count as one of the most bizarre situations Hermione had ever been in.

"Miss Granger," Lucius started. "Before everything else, let me start this off by saying that we are honoured that you had accepted our invitation, when I'm sure you've had many reasons not to. Especially given the nature of our previous — altercations — of which of course we were to blame, I more so than my wife..."

Instinctively, Hermione knew — that as far as apology went — that was the best she was going to get from Lucius Malfoy. Even then, it was enough to surprise her. Especially since she wasn't expecting it at all.

"What's past is past, Mr. Malfoy," replied Hermione. "And please, do call me Hermione."

A subtle elegant nod was all she got in return. Apparently Draco inherited the nodding gene from his father, though a less elegant one at that.

Lucius waved his hand and plates of delicious-looking dishes appeared out of thin air — much like meal times back in Hogwarts. "Let us feast," announced Lucius.

The Malfoys started to scoop out some dishes into their plates, followed with Hermione who took only a spoonful of each plate out of respect. Her nerves got the better of her. She had somehow lost her healthy appetite.

Draco eyed the portion on Hermione's plate and began to worry. "Have some more," said Draco, "you're still recuperating. You need lots of sustenance. I don't want you to fall ill again." As he said those words, his hand moved from one plate to another, scooping the contents, making sure that Hermione got more than just one spoon per plate.

Seeing that unfamiliar display of affection by their son — for about two seconds — two sets of elegant hands stopped mid-air, their movements suspended.

"I wasn't sic—" Hermione countered, only to backtrack at once because she remembered that no one knew she wasn't really sick besides Ginny. "...um, yes, thank you, Draco." She eyed the heap of dishes on her plate and Hermione eyes widened in horror. "Draco, stop! I couldn't possibly finish all of these!"

Draco stopped to glance at Hermione plate. "Oh, right you are," was his only response. He transferred half of the dishes on Hermione's plate unto his own and started to dig in.

Hermione thrown a smile to the other Malfoys as a gesture of acknowledgment before eating, and was surprised to see the both of them so immersed with their foods. Unbeknown to Draco and Hermione, the other Malfoys were stealthily obscuring their little amused smiles.

The next minutes were spent with Hermione trying her best to remember her meal times with her parents, instead of the ones with her culturally-challenged best friends, who inhaled their food like there's no tomorrow.

"Is the meal agreeable, Hermione?" asked Narcissa, testing Hermione's given name.

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, these are delicious. Thank you for inviting me," Hermione answered graciously.

"It was our pleasure, dear," countered Narcissa, feeling surprised herself that the casually thrown term of endearment was used not out of spite. Pride rose up inside of Narcissa Malfoy for being able to proof to herself that she had indeed changed from her former judgmental self. The old Narcissa would use the word 'dear' with such sweet venom that the person referred by it would feel degraded despite the non-curse nature of the word itself.

Draco, who knew his mother's chosen arsenal of literary weapon, smiled at her mother in appreciation, before noticing too late the glint of mischief reflected on her blue eyes.

"It would have been a miss on our side not to invite you to our home," continued Narcissa, "especially having read the Friday's print of the Daily Prophet."

Hermione thanked every deity in the universe that she had stopped eating when Narcissa started talking, because if not, she was sure the contents of her mouth would have been strewn across the dining table.

She knew she was forgetting something important. She had wanted to discuss it first with Draco upon arriving at the Manor — knowing full well that he was on a business trip in Egypt when the print was out — but seeing the famous library of the Malfoy Manor had made her lost her train of thoughts.

Both Narcissa and Lucius had continued eating, as if nothing of importance was said. But Draco knew better, his mother had started meddling, as all mothers did.

Hermione's head whipped so fast to him that he was afraid her neck would popped. Her eyes were huge and her mouth opened and closed in repeat for several times with no sound whatsoever.

Putting one and one together — his impromptu visit on Thursday and the fact that almost everyone of her colleagues were there to witness the whole thing — Draco guessed that the whole wizarding world was now privy to the fact that Hermione Granger had addressed Draco Malfoy as her friend.

"Ah yes," Draco said, "The Daily Prophet's response time has considerably getting better and better nowadays."

"So you agree with the headline?" asked Narcissa, her meal temporarily forgotten.

Hermione's head whipped again, lightning fast, this time to Narcissa.

"Yes, of course," answered Draco, "it was to be expected. Took them long enough though. Hermione declared it to her colleagues at lunchtime. I was surprised they didn't print a special article that very night." Draco smiled fondly remembering Hermione addressing him as her friend to her stunned co-workers.

The loud gasp stopped Draco's thought. Within a millisecond of his statement, Hermione's head had whipped again to him, this time with horror etched on her suddenly pale face.

 _Pop!  
_ Binky Apparated beside Draco with the biggest smile Draco has ever seen, put the paper down next to his plate, and Disapparated again.  
 _Pop!_

A total of six words were highlighted in bold capital letter with three cursive question marks at the end.

HERMIONE GRANGER AND DRACO MALFOY. LOVERS?

"Oh..."

 **AN:  
Don't be too mad at me for this seriously late update. I was browsing and came upon the picture of Emma Watson as Belle, which prompted the finishing of this chapter.  
I have the big picture for the next chapter, but please do review and tell me your thoughts. Sometimes the muse can be found in reviews!**

 **Thanks to those of you still reading (o''o)**

 **PS: The red ruffled dress of course referred to the one Emma wore in the movie (wedding scene).**


	18. Chapter 18

**Sinful Delights**

 **Chapter 18: The Saturday Lunch Part Deux**

 **AN:**

 **Harry Potter is not mine, never was, never will be.**

 **English is not my first language, I apologise in advanced for any mistakes you might find here.**

 **Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy.**

 **Timeline: True to HP series. Completely ignoring the epilogue.**

Determined as he was to really set things in motion, Draco would rather do it without sustaining an injury from a very pissed and very talented, brightest witch of her age — whose face had turned to the color of a ripe tomato.

He would have laughed upon seeing the expression on Hermione's face, if only he wasn't so scared she'd jinx him for doing so. Thank Merlin his parents were there with him. His meddling mother might have been the reason he was put in the hot spot in the first place, but them being there was also the reason Draco was still smack-free.

But in all honesty, how could he have known that the Prophet would twist the story as such? An article about them being friends should be more than enough to rattle the Wizarding world. Must they add fuel to the flame by using the words lovers?

"Ah," started Draco, "I know what you're going to say," he looked at Hermione, "should've seen the article before opening my big wonderfully-sculpted mouth, right?"

His smile — almost a smirk — combined with his playful delivery, were executed so flawlessly, that Hermione couldn't help but to smile back in return. Needless to say, Draco's parents were heady with delights upon seeing their only son's playful side. Especially after the lonely years they had endured together.

Satisfied — and relieved — to see the smile on Hermione's face, Draco started to explain. "To answer your question, Mother — no, I do not agree with the headline." Draco turned his head sideways to Hermione. "Hermione and I are friends. That was what she declared to her colleagues. And honestly, I'm amazed that I have to explain _that_ to the both of you, on what ground would she felt the need to declare that we're lovers?"

"Maybe on the same ground that she felt the need to _declare_ your friendship to her colleagues?" asked Narcissa.

His mother was quick, Draco admitted that. "Ah... that—"

"That was the words you chose, Draco — declared — I can't help but think that there was a story there..." Narcissa inquired, her eyes bored straight into Hermione's.

Hermione felt three pairs of eyes staring at her, waiting for her to say something. She turned to Draco and she could literally see his unvoiced reply etched on his face. _I myself still don't understand why you did that._ _Mind explaining it one more time?_

She put down the cutleries and let out the most silent sigh ever.

"Against all odds, Draco is my friend now," she started, "and I despise people telling me who I can and can't be friends with. Other than those closest to me, the society have no say whatsoever in what's going on in my life. And so, I let it be known, in non-negotiable term, that my being friends with Draco is in fact — non-negotiable."

Her eyes locked with Draco's, and the way he was looking at her then made her cheeks heat up. Hermione became even more self conscious because of it. She would talk to him later about toning down his charm when in the company of his parents. The prat just kept on smiling without a care in the world. Again, Hermione felt the familiar urge to kissing him silly and or smacking him.

"And those closest to you, how did they take the news?" Narcissa asked again, alerting Hermione to the reality that she and Draco were not the only people in the room.

"They know me enough to trust my judgment," answered Hermione, "or else..." she added in a smaller voice — not meant to be heard — obviously forgetting for a second that she was surrounded by the Malfoys, who excelled in hushed conversations.

At that moment, Draco swore that his father snickered. Lucius Malfoy actually snickered. If only Draco had less lesson in decorum, his jaw would be on the floor.

"Hermione," continued Narcissa, "If my memory serves me right — and they do — I believe that besides trusting your judgment, they knew you well enough not to go against you, ever."

"Well, I have to admit that they are much smarter now," replied Hermione easily.

His mother and Hermione were exchanging harmless banter, having a casual amicable conversation. In shock, Draco's jaw finally relented to the pull of gravity, forming the iconic O shape, which caught his father's attention. Lucius made an unnoticeable swish movement with his right hand and Draco's jaw locked back into its previous position — a spell which of course was entirely missed by Draco because he was too immersed seeing the smirks exchanged between his mother and Hermione.

The thought of the horrors that could be unleashed in the future from those combined smirks sent shivers down his spine.

Draco looked straight ahead and locked eyes with Lucius. He reckoned that the petrified look on his father's face was similar to his. These two powerful women should never have met! The Malfoys men were barely able to go head-to-head against Narcissa Malfoy. But lo and behold, Draco had gone mental and added Hermione Granger into the mix.

 _Son, what have you done?_ Lucius asked with a flick of his eyebrow.

"On a more serious note," Narcissa continued, breaking the mental conversation between the horrified men present, "excited as I am to see this blossoming _friendship_ ," her eyes flitted slyly to Draco on the word friendship, "I must warn you that being friends with a Malfoy comes with a heap of danger." Narcissa turned her eyes to Hermione. "Nowadays, those who were our allies has turned on us, and those who were our adversaries have never truly become our allies. I'm sure that you are well aware of the precarious position the Malfoys have within the community. To put it bluntly, we have all to gain from your friendship, and you — all to lose. People who used to support you might turn on you too, dear. Have you thought it through?"

There was an apology in Narcissa's eyes when she glanced at Draco. But the words needed to be said. And Narcissa Malfoy rarely backed down from saying what's on her mind, especially ones concerning her only child.

Slowly, full of apprehension, Draco tilted his head to the right and looked at the profile of the woman who, in a short amount of time, had became his happiness. He knew his mother was right to pointing it out. He also knew what Hermione would have said regarding the topic. Knowing her bravery and her sense of right and wrong, she would no doubt would have said something along the line of defending him against all odds. But still, that tiny drop of fear persisted within him and took him hostage.

Hermione felt, rather than saw, the exact moment Draco stopped breathing. It irritated her that he could possibly think that she would abandon him, especially after all the time they had spent together. She was this close to smacking him then and there, his parents be damned, when she finally saw the look on his face — and comprehension came to her.

"I did have think it through," Hermione answered, her eyed focused on Draco's instead on the ones who actually asked the question. "I've weighted down all the pros and cons and found that only one point matters." There was clarity in Hermione's eyes, doubts lifted from her chocolate eyes. "That I would have him in my life," she finished with certainty.

Draco inhaled sharply, the molten silver of his eyes intensified and Hermione found it was her turn with a breathing problem. "As friends, that is," she added in haste, a bit late in reminding herself that they were not alone and were in fact in the presence of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. She was undoubtedly mortified!

A movement on her left startled her. Draco was standing, his hand was extended towards her. "Father, Mother, please excuse us for a moment."

Hermione was too shocked to move, but nevertheless her hand was already on Draco's arm and he was helping her out of the chair. On the background, Hermione heard either Lucius or Narcissa said something. But she couldn't really hear what they were saying, she was too lost in the intensity of Draco's eyes. Her insides were somersaulting all over the place.

Draco guided them out of the sunroom, back to the long hallway, all the way to the library. He opened the door, dragged Hermione inside, turned his body around, and pushed the door to a close. His right hand was still positioned on the door, with Hermione in the middle.

"Draco," Hermione started, "what—"

"Have me in your life?" interrupted Draco. His eyes bored down on Hermione.

He was close enough for Hermione to see the pattern of his suit, to feel the soft caress of his breaths, the warmth radiating off his body.

Hermione gulped. This was it. No backing down now. "Yes. What of it?" The glint on her eyes was unmistakeable; it was a challenge.

Draco's heart rate accelerated, a smirk adorned his face. "As friends?" he prodded.

"We are already friends," answered Hermione, not missing a beat.

Draco lowered his arm from the door. His fingers cascaded from the top of Hermione's bare arm. Their eyes remained locked.

"I want more than friends," said Draco. It was a statement, not a question. A question of _what if I want more?_ did not apply here. Draco knew exactly what he wanted. All that remained was whether Hermione wanted him back.

The ensued silence was thick with anticipation. Draco's hand had reached Hermione's wrist and lingered there, waiting for an answer. His thumb made a back and forth motions on her inner wrist. Both were heady with the innocent touch.

"Yes..." breathed Hermione. And if her voice wavered, she did not care. What he was doing to her was torture, of the sweetest kind.

"Yes?" asked Draco, as if he was worried he might have misheard that simple answer. Worried it was his imagination playing cruel tricks on him.

Seeing this rather-unsure Draco solidified Hermione's mind. She hated the insecurity she had seen flickered on his eyes. Short might be their time together up until that moment, but Hermione felt that she understood Draco Malfoy more than most people. And she knew what to do next.

She opened her clenched palm and made the short fateful trek to his awaiting hand. An action done with full intention now. With a little squeeze for good measure, she confirmed it for him, "Yes."

Right after she said that, her senses were attacked from all sides. Draco had moved so fast, Hermione found herself pressed even further into the closed door. The fabric of his expensive suit tickled her bare skin. At such close proximity, the scent of him was overwhelming her, in all the good ways. Such as it was for Draco also, who was barely holding himself together.

Their breaths were heavy, each was still transfixed with each other's gazes. Draco raised their joined hands and while still maintaining eye contact, kissed the inside of Hermione's wrist. "We will continue this conversation later," promised Draco. His mouth caressed her wrist and the contact burned her.

Later could not come soon enough.

 **AN:**

 **As promised a long long long time ago, this is for you who was waiting for the beginning of their relationship.**

 **I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Please do let me know your thoughts.**


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